Final Mission
by Zaney HacknSlash
Summary: "Change isn't always easy, but it's always necessary." "But how much change? What if things change so much, you don't even recognize your life anymore?" "...keep in mind that some things never change." Sequel to 'Missions'; takes place after coming home from India. A fic about what tears people apart and what holds them together.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I'm baaack! I've been working on this forever, but today I woke up and was like 'today's the day!' This fic is extremely personal to me, since most of it was written out of my own experiences/emotions on this particular issue, so I'm a bit concerned that it may push some of the characters' boundaries, and honestly, I almost decided not to post it here at all, but I think it's finally at a point where I'm happy with it. Please tell me what you think, and enjoy!**

**-Zaney**

Final Mission

_It seems like every Days the Same…_

**Goku**

He's been staring into the distance for forever now, hasn't said a word in what feels like hours, and I've been chattering on and on until I almost feel like I'm just talking to myself, and I'm only doing it 'cause the quiet's starting to bug me, and I don't know what to do, other than to try and fill it, hoping that I'll say something that will make him respond. I mean, right now, he's not even snorting or blinking or nodding or _looking_ at me. I can't figure out what he's staring at. I've turned around in my seat about a million times to try to see whatever it is he sees—a hot waitress, or a cute girl, or someone he knows, or a mountain of delicious food, or a painting that's weird and doesn't make sense, or a window, or _anything_—but the only thing I see is the blank wall of the restaurant we're sitting in. There are some boring decorations hanging off it: candle holders and a shelf with some homey-feeling knick-knacks, but other than that, it's just the door to the kitchen, and it's late at night, so there aren't a lot of people going in or out. I can smell the food cooking in there, but we've both got huge plates of pizza right in front of us, and two more full pizza's lined up and ready to go when the one we're working on is gone, so it's not like he's hungry and waiting for somebody to bring the dinner. He's barely eaten what he's got in front of him. All he's really done since we got here is drink beer, but he hasn't even touched that in like ten or fifteen minutes, which is probably about as long as he's been sitting there, not moving or speaking.

"This pizza's really, really good." I tell him. Like maybe he'll actually eat it if I think it's good.

"It's got lotsa' cheese on it, an' I love their sauce recipe. Ooh, an' the crust's got cheese in it too. It's _so_ good. This place is pretty new, huh? I don't think it was here before we went to India, do you?"

Gojyo doesn't even glance at me, even though I just asked him a question.

He's got his hair up in a ponytail that looks messy to me, and some dark sunglasses sitting on his forehead, even though it's going on ten. Other than that, he's just wearing a rumpled, black t-shirt with some kinda' logo on it, and it looks and smells like he's been wearing it all week. His faded, blue jeans are torn just about everywhere, and they're pretty dirty too. I'm about eighty percent sure he was wearing the exact same jeans last time I saw him, and that was more than a month ago.

There are dark circles under his eyes, and he's frowning in a way I'm not used to, like whatever's goin' on in his head bothers him a lot.

But it's not even the way he looks that's getting me on edge. It's the way he smells and the way he _feels_. I don't know what it is, but he's smelled and felt this way a long time now—months and months—this smell of chaos and stress and despair with faint hints of anger and worry, and this feeling of isolation and distance. Gojyo has never smelled or felt that way to me ever before in the whole ten years I've known him, and it scares me a little bit, 'cause he's supposed to be laidback and cocky and jokey.

"Gojyo." I say, when we've been sitting in total silence for more than ten minutes. I think that hearing his name might wake him up, since it's starting to look like he fell asleep with his eyes open.

He doesn't twitch.

"_Gojyo._ Hey, I'm talkin' to ya', Kappa. _Sha Gojyo!_"

_Finally_, he blinks, sighs, hisses through his teeth, raises his fist to cough into it, and his eyes focus on me, "What're you screaming about, monkey? I'm sitting right across from you." He coughs again and takes a drag off his cigarette. He's been coughing a pretty long time, so even though it sounds worse every time I see him, I've gotten used to it, and I don't worry about it so much anymore. Hakkai didn't seem worried about it, last time I asked him about it, and if Hakkai's not worried, I've decided not to be.

'Course, if Hakkai could see Gojyo right _now_, he might be worried, but there's no way of knowing if he would be or not.

"This place's new, huh?"

Gojyo shrugs and glances around, "Um…I think it used to be a drug store."

"What? No way. It so wasn't the drug store."

He nods to himself, "Yep. The drug store. Banri and me held it up once."

I gawk at him. "What're ya' talking about? When did'ja ever hold up a drug store?"

He shrugs again. "I've held up a lot of drug stores."

"Pft. Liar. People that do that go ta' jail."

"Only if they get caught."

I consider his tone. It's as distant as the rest of him, like he barely knows who he's talkin' to. I watch him drink and smoke a while, but he never goes back to his pizza.

"Don't'cha' like the food?"

With a yawn, he meets my eyes again, and I think he looks really tired, with red-rimmed eyes, forehead slightly creased, skin just a little paler than normal, and I smell booze on him. Not the beer he's been drinking. Not sake. Hard stuff. Stuff I only drink if it's a super special occasion. "Sure, it's okay."

A long time more passes, and I study him. He doesn't really look like a kid anymore, like, he's not super young the way he was when we went to India, but he doesn't look as old as he is either. To me, he looks like he's my age. People around us probably assume he is. Still, there's a lot of sparkle gone from his eyes and his smile, and I don't think it all has to do with Hakkai being gone. That's gotta' be part of it though.

Years ago, I figured out that trying to talk to Gojyo about anything important or emotional or deep is pretty much a complete waste of time; he's a lot like Sanzo in a way, 'cause any time ya' try and talk to them about what they think or feel about something that honestly affects or bothers them on an emotional level, they just turn into walls. It's a lot of 'I don't know, I don't care, don't worry about it, mind your own business, and nobody asked you' kinds of stuff.

_But_ I'm gonna' try, 'cause he's never seemed this bad before. For a few months, I've felt like I'm watching him wind down some drain into some shitty level of bad thoughts, but he's been doing it really slowly, and even though I noticed right away that stuff was off, I didn't actually realize how off it might be until tonight, when he spent like twenty minutes staring at somethin' that's not there.

"What's up?" I ask, casually as I can.

Gojyo raises his eyebrows and sets his mouth in a crooked line and shakes his head in a 'not much' gesture. "You know the drill, monkey: sex, booze and cards."

"Naw, I mean…ya' seem…I dunno'… Are ya' upset about somethin'?"

"No. Everything's cool."

"You're not like…worried or stressed out or sick?"

"Nope. I'm good."

"Why arent'cha' eating?"

He glances down at his pizza like he completely forgot it was there. "I dunno'. Not hungry, I guess."

"So…" I lean back in my chair, letting it rock on its rear legs a little, "Nothin' happened?"

"Like what?"

"Like anything."

"Nah. Nothing ever happens. This town bores the shit outta' me."

That's new. That's somethin' I might even be able to run with. "Why don'tcha' go somewhere else?" I ask it, but I'm being super careful.

"Right. Like where?"

"Wherever ya' want. There're lotsa' places ta' go."

"Yeah, well." He snorts, "It's not as easy as just packing up and taking off." He frowns really deeply. "Not for everybody."

I think that's kinda' strange, 'cause he's always been a guy who acts like he doesn't have ties to anything. "But why not?"

He laughs, but it sounds pretty wrong. There's something bitter about it. "Oh, c'mon. You wouldn't really want me to leave, would'ja'?"

"Maybe, if it meant you'd be happier."

Gojyo cocks an eyebrow at me, "Who said I'm unhappy? All I said is I'm bored with this place."

I don't know how to tell him why I think he's unhappy, 'cause the only proof I've got is what I can see in front of me: the messy, unwashed, gloomy shadow of Gojyo across the table, and convincing him to admit something's up will be just about impossible.

Besides, he doesn't think I understand. He still thinks I'm the same stupid kid I've always been to him.

Talking to Sanzo probably won't do him much good either. He comes up to the temple every now and then these days, but it's been less and less often for the last few months, and they even kinda' hang around together. That's weird to me, 'cause they've never been the guys who wanna' hang around together, but most of the time, when Gojyo comes up, I'm busy, and then he just winds up hanging around with Sanzo. I doubt it matters though, 'cause Sanzo's never gonna' ask 'what the hell's wrong with you', and Gojyo's never gonna' answer straight, even if he does; chances are, it'll just start some crazy fight between them.

I wish Hakkai was around, 'cause I know that if Hakkai walked into this room right now, he'd take one look at Gojyo, see how wrong everything is, an' probably demand to know what the problem is. Then Gojyo would probably just tell him. Not right away, I guess, but he totally, totally would, at some point.

These days, that's not an option. Hakkai's off, miles and miles away, makin' a new life for himself, and I can't figure out why Gojyo didn't go with him. For a few months, it seemed like everything would be okay. But over the last half a year, I've seen that nothing's okay. Stuff's probably even worse than I can see.

"D'ya' miss Hakkai?" I ask, out of nowhere, and I didn't mean to. I've tried to be careful for the past year to never bring it up, never ask about it, not even mention that Hakkai's gone.

Gojyo looks shocked, like he can't believe I asked him that. His eyes are sorta' wide, but his mouth is closed tight, and his whole expression looks almost disturbed.

That's just for a sec though, and then that all slides away, and there's a mask in place of it. His eyes brighten and his mouth smirks, he snorts out a stream of smoke and rakes his fingers back through his hair, "Oh yeah, that guy. Damn, I haven't even…" He breaks off and shrugs, "Yeah. Sure. A little. It's a lot quieter without his friggin' nagging me every two seconds."

"Is he gonna' come back soon?"

"Huh. I didn't think about it. I dunno'. Maybe. He's probably really busy."

"Prob'ly, huh?" I try to smile, but it feels about as fake as the smirk on his face.

"Sucker." He leans back in his chair to smoke.

Then we're quiet again.

I think, suddenly, that maybe Gojyo's right to think I don't get it, 'cause I guess I don't. Hakkai moved, Gojyo didn't go with him, and no one knows why; stuff seemed okay for a few months, and now this. I have no idea why he's here if he doesn't wanna' be. I have no idea why he can't just start a new life right here in his own town where he's lived for years. I don't get what's holding him back. I don't know what it is that's making him quiet, and distant and stressed and angry.

I think about sayin' 'maybe you shoulda' gone with him', but I know better. As long as he seems to be skating by okay, I can't ever say that, 'cause I know he'll fly off the handle.

He's low now, but until he hits rock bottom and can't get off his face, I can't make any judgment calls, and Sanzo won't either.

Gojyo rubs his forehead suddenly, and the smirk is gone; he closes his eyes and sighs, deeply.

"Ya' tired?"

"Nn. I guess a little."

He shouldn't be. Not when I went to his house at three and found him sleeping on his couch. He's always sleeping these days, and I don't think he should be tired, but then again, I don't know what he does all night, I just assume he does what he always does, and Sanzo says it's idiotic to still be acting 'that way' at his age. I guess it must be the same stupid crap he's always done, getting drunk and running around with chicks, gambling the night away, stumbling home in the first few rays of morning, to a day without breakfast.

The waitress brings our check. She's really pretty, with a nice face and beautiful eyes, and the rest of her's real neat and put together. She's younger than me, probably not a full ten years younger than Gojyo, and I've been waiting all night for him to hit on her, but he hasn't, and that's just another thing I don't have an answer for.

"Can I get anything else for your boys?" She smiles sweetly at each of us in turn.

"No thanks." I grin up at her, "The food was awesome—thanks!"

"You're welcome, sweetie." Then she glances at Gojyo, like he might say something too, but he's sitting with his eyes closed still, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, so she wishes us a nice night and slips away.

I pick up the check. It's pretty high. "Are ya' done with your food?" I ate most of the pizza all by myself, and he only had a slice and a half, or somethin', but I'm sick of waiting around to see if he's gonna' eat more when it looks like he's definitely not.

"Yeah. Want it?"

"I'm stuffed." I glance at his plate. It's almost like he just got bored and started smoking instead, 'cause there's a clump of cigarette butts gathered on the edge of his plate. "How'dya' wanna' handle the bill?"

"Spot me."

It's not even a request.

I frown, "Again? Ya' never paid me back from last time."

"I will."

"When?"

"When I get some money."

"When's that gonna' be?"

"Soon."

"_When_ Gojyo?"

"I don't know, okay? If you don't wanna' pay, don't bring me to dinner."

It's definitely an option, but I don't want to not invite him to dinner, especially 'cause I don't know when I'll ever see him if I don't invite him places with me. He used to come see us at the temple a lot, right after Hakkai left, but he barely does that now, and so I have to come down to town to see him.

"Ya' really don't have like two thousand yen?"

He's looking at me now, but it's the face he uses when we play cards, and I've never been able to figure out how to read it, "Not on me."

"How long's it gonna' take before ya' get it? It's not like it's a lotta' money."

"I have no idea. Look, I'll pay you back later, okay? What's the big deal? It's not like I'm never gonna' see you again and skip town with your damn two thousand yen."

Not that it really matters, but it's more like six or seven thousand yen.

I sigh and give in, "Yeah, okay. But next time ya' better bring some money."

Gojyo grins, "You got it." He gets out of his seat and heads for the door. I go pay the check while he hangs around outside, then we start heading home.

The town's pretty peaceful, 'cause it's a Tuesday, and it's fall, so the leaves are turning colors. The town's sorta' pretty, and it smells like burning wood. I don't understand why Gojyo suddenly acts like he hates it here so much.

I look over at him. I never stopped growing, not until I got to be like twenty-five, so I'm a couple inches taller than him now, and I'm not scrawny like he is. Hakkai always told me I was shaping up to have 'an athletic build', not like the rest of 'em, who he said were more slender and lean. Hakkai and Sanzo started lookin' delicate to me, not long ago, so I'm almost scared ta' even touch 'em, like they might break if I'm not careful, and Gojyo just looks frickin' skinny, like he needs to eat. I've got nothin' but weird, scrawny, starvey-looking, anorexic friends that eat nothing.

So now Gojyo's shorter than me, and I used ta' tease him about it, before Hakkai moved and stuff turned weird; I called him chibi kappa, chibi roach, little kappy, tiny kappa, baby roach, and even little guy. At first, he acted like he had no idea what to do, and he stood kinda' behind Hakkai, like I was gonna' eat him, and Hakkai laughed at him, and everything was good. Then, after the first handful of times, he got so frustrated and embarrassed, his face was about as red as his hair, and he screamed at me for like five minutes straight about what a dick I was being, but I just laughed and said 'revenge is sweet, Goj', while Hakkai dragged him outside to get some air and calm down.

Now I don't even think about doing that. Maybe it's just 'cause I'm worried about the little guy, but I can't joke with him or make fun of him. I don't know what to say to him, 'cause no matter what I say, either he doesn't answer at all, or he lies to me.

Right now, he doesn't look happy. He looks gloomy… Not really sad, I don't think. Sad's not the right word, and I guess mad ain't either, but he's definitely not happy. Whatever his problem is, I wish I knew an answer for him, but nothing comes to mind right now. He says he's bored in this town, but I'm not sure moving is the answer.

"You could…"

He walks next to me, quietly waiting for me to answer, but he never asks what I was going to say, 'cause maybe he doesn't want to know. Maybe he already knows he could do something to change his life, and maybe he thinks it won't be enough.

Gojyo stops waiting, shifts, lights a new cigarette, "Well, I'm gonna' take off. Thanks for dinner, kid."

"No problem. Ya' gonna' go play cards?"

He snorts, "What else?"

"Every night still, huh?"

It takes him a sec to answer, "Yeah. Anyway, give Master Sanzo my love."

There's the tiniest hint of a joke in that, but it's faded and half hearted, like he has to say it, even though he doesn't care anymore.

"That reminds me. He wants ya' to come see him tomorrow."

For the first time all night, I feel like he really hears what I say, and he really looks at me. "Why?"

"There's a thing… I dunno' how ta' explain it. He'll tell ya' when ya' show up, I guess."

I get the feeling that makes him nervous. He bites his cigarette a little and doesn't say anything.

"Ya' gonna' show up?"

Gojyo shrugs, "Maybe."  
"He says it's important."

"Isn't it always?"  
"Yeah, but this time it actually is."

"We'll see…"

There's nothing else after that, and I dunno' what else to say.

"'Kay. Well, see ya' later."

He doesn't answer, just starts to walk away.

I turn to make my way back up to the temple. It sucks a little to go all alone, but I don't mind too much, 'cause it's a nice night, and it gives me plenty of time to think.

Hakkai left a year ago, and it's really weird not having him around, but not as bad as it was when he first took off; back then, it was super strange, going to see Gojyo, or hanging out, just the three of us, and it always felt like something we really needed was missing. Hakkai always had his thoughts and concerns, and he was always looking out for everybody in his own way. Nobody wanted him to go, not even Sanzo. He kept talking about how he didn't wanna' be stuck with 'the two idiots' all the time, but I knew that was his way of expressing that he was gonna' miss Hakkai as much as the rest of us, even if he couldn't say so.

I know I definitely miss Hakkai. I miss his weird jokes and the way he talks, his smile and his way of making me feel like I'm not totally stupid and the way he looks after me. It's more normal now, never seeing him or listening to him or hearing anything about him, and I'm busy with my own life, but sometimes I think about the way it was when he was around, the way he used to teach me things, and how a lot of what I know is thanks to him, and then, sometimes, I feel kinda' sad that he's not around. It's not like he's dead—I know he's out there, doing fine—but it still feels like he dropped off the face of the earth. Sanzo never talks about him, but they write to each other every now and then, so sometimes Sanzo tells me what he said or lets me read one of his letters, and it's always about how well he's doing and how normal and peaceful and simple his life at school is; it seems way to normal for Hakkai, and I don't totally understand why he left to go do something so boring, but he's happy, as far as I know, so I don't worry about him, and I know I'll see him again, some time. It's only been a year.

Gojyo seems like the guy to worry about these days. Seeing him without Hakkai is a little like seeing somebody who's only half a person, in a weird way. He says things, and I know Hakkai would tease him about them, or play off of, or scold him for, or just comment on in his casual way, but he's not there to do it, and even though Gojyo never says nothin' about it, the look in his eyes tells me he's one-hundred percent aware of that.

I worry about him, living in his crappy house, by himself, when I know he doesn't like to be alone, and lately his attitude is so messed up I don't know what to do with him. He won't tell me what's up, even though I've tried to talk to him about it, so I keep hoping he'll figure it out by himself, telling myself he doesn't need me to help him, but I always wonder. Every time he walks away from me like that, not really saying goodbye, I wonder what he's thinkin' and where he's goin' and if he's actually okay.

Before Hakkai left, I was thinking this is a nice time in life for us. We spent so much time traveling and fighting and struggling for our lives, and it was fun at the time, but it's good to be home. I'm not always sure I'm used to the peace, and sometimes I still expect to get jumped by assassins, but nothing happens, and life is nice. I've got some duties around the temple, like keeping watch and teaching martial arts to some of the acolytes, and these days, even the monks who've always hated my guts have started to respect me.

Sanzo likes the calm too, I know, not 'cause he says so, but 'cause I feel it when we walk in the garden, or when he sits at his desk, sipping tea. He's got his sutra back, and he's happy with that.

Life won't always be like this. I know things could go wrong again, someday, or that things might change, and when that happens, I know I'll be ready, but until then, everything is nice, just living with Sanzo, in the temple, the way we did before our big journey. It feels right.

Stuff would be perfect if Hakkai were still around. I know he has stuff he wants to do, but sometimes, like on days like today, I wish he'd stayed here.

_If Sanzo ever went away, I'd wanna' go with him. Even if I couldn't, for some reason, I don't think I could hang around here and keep living in the temple without him. I wouldn't wanna'._

Gojyo's still in the same house, and I wonder if it's hard still, looking around, seeing Hakkai in everything around him, but knowing he's far away. He won't move on though, like he's standing still while the rest of the world keeps hurrying by, and sometimes, like tonight, I wanna' shake him real hard and scream at him, an' tell him to stop sleep-walking, but I don't know what he should do instead, so I don't say anything.

I see the temple ahead of me, through the trees, and I feel the warm, safe feeling I always get when I know I'm home, just like the first time I saw it when we came back from putting a stop to the revival, and how I never wanted to leave again.

These days, I'd get restless if I didn't have the little monks to teach. I'm glad Sanzo gave me a job to do.

I'm still thinking as I walk through the front gates, so I don't hurry. People say hey to me, and I say hey back. I belong here now, and they accept that. I make my way to Sanzo's room, but I stop outside the door. There are voices inside, and I wonder who's up so late talking to Sanzo, so I hang out there a sec, listening.

"…my Lord, as one of your chief advisers, I _advise_ that you reconsider." That's the voice of Kumo, a monk that's been around here forever, and lately, he's weaseled his way in, real close to Sanzo, always following him around and giving him advice, like he thinks it's his job, even though Sanzo never asked him to. I mean, he's older than a lot of the others, so he's got a lot of duties, and in a way, he is like Sanzo's right-hand man, but I'm starting to feel like he's gotten a big head.

Sanzo answers him, coldly, "Why would I do that? He's been here dozens of times, and furthermore, I summoned him."

"But Master Sanzo! You've heard the rumors floating around down there."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, come now, Master, I know better than to think you trust such a degenerate, especially since you've increased security around here recently."

"That's unrelated."

Kumo sounds exasperated, "It's my duty, as much as yours, to see to it that the temple, and all its contents—treasures and disciples of Buddha alike—are kept secure."

"Well, that's why I asked him here. And don't tell me what my duty is."

"Of-of course, my Lord, I don't mean to instruct or question you…but…"

Sanzo gives him a split second, then demands, "That's exactly what you're doing, so why don't you explain it to me."

"Well…" Kumo's voice is nervous now, "…until recently, Cho Hakkai's influence prevented any serious misbehavior, however, with these rumors we've been hearing…it's apparent to me that the _zasshu_ is off his proverbial leash."

Suddenly, it hits me what he's talking about, and it makes me angry. I throw the door open, totally ready to shout at Kumo and tell him the hell off.

Sanzo beats me to it. He's on his feet when I open the door, and his eyes are hard like rocks. "That's enough, Kumo." He doesn't raise his voice, but I can hear the anger in it, and I can smell it too. "It's none of your business, and I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter, so feel free to take your ass out of here now."

Kumo's distracted, looking back at me like he wasn't expecting to see me there. He's like sixty, or somethin', and he's stocky and tall—but not as tall as me—and I can throw him out if I wanna'. Sanzo probably won't even stop me after what he just said. He turns back to Sanzo, quickly, whining a little, "My Lord, I'm only thinking of the good of the temple! There are priorities to consider!"

Sanzo doesn't answer him. He looks angrier than ever.

"Ya' heard him." I growl. "Get outta' here. And don't ever leme' catch ya' sayin' nothin' like that again."

Kumo gives me a disdainful look—he's one of the only monks that never accepted me like the others. "You don't have that sort of authority here, and in any case, this doesn't concern you, Goku-san."

"Yeah?" I take a step toward him, "I maybe don't have the authority, but it totally concerns me, an' _in any case_, Sanzo told ya' to go away."

Kumo's sharp, black beard quivers with outrage as he turns to Sanzo again.

Sanzo cuts off whatever he was gonna' say, "You better go, or I _will_ let him throw you out of here. After what you just said, I don't feel very charitable."

"It's only the truth, my Lord."

Sanzo grits his teeth, furiously, "_Out_."

For a sec, Kumo hesitates, and I think maybe I really _will_ hafta' throw him out, then he finally bows and says, quietly, "Yes, Master Sanzo." He steps past me, one hand tucked into his robe, the other carrying a heavy, wooden staff, and disappears down the candle-lit hallway.

As soon as he's gone, Sanzo sits down again, picks up his pen, dips it in ink and starts to write something.

"What the heck was that about?" I demand, and I'm still way, way angry. "He was talkin' about Gojyo?"

"Hn. The 'mutt'." Sanzo snorts, distastefully.

_"Why?_"

"Kumo's never liked any of you. You know that. When the minus wave was beginning, he'd whisper in my ear day and night that all three of you were going to go nuts and kill everyone in Chang'an."

"Yeah, so why'dya' let him hang around ya' so much?"

"Why wouldn't I? He does his job right, which is more than I can say for a lot of the idiots around here; it's got nothing to do with me what he thinks of any of you. _Most_ of the time, he knows what he's talking about, and _normally_ he listens to me."

"So why not t'night?"

Sanzo doesn't answer. He's writing Kanji very carefully.

"What're the rumors he was talkin' about?"

"Pfft…" Goku, don't bother." He pauses to take a drag off his cigarette. He's cut back on his smoking, a little, but I still worry about it sometimes, especially since Gojyo's been coughing all the time lately.

"The rumors've got somethin' ta' do with Gojyo though, right?" That bothers me. First the Kappa's acting weird, an' now there are rumors about him.

Sanzo notices I'm bothered and looks up at me, "They're just mindless rumors from the town. Don't worry about them."

"About _Gojyo_ though, right?"

At last, he sighs, sets everything down, tucks both hands into his sleeves and sits back with his eyes closed. "About him. Yes. That doesn't make them important or pertinent or _true_ in any way, so don't worry about it."

"What're they sayin'?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head, "What's it matter?"

"Just…lately he's been so… I dunno'. Weird. Maybe it's got somethin' ta do with it."

"Doubtful." He grumbles. "Were you with him?"

"Um, yeah."

For some reason, he frowns. "Was he…" he stops himself, starts over, "How is he?"

That's the weirdest thing of all, Sanzo asking about Gojyo. It throws me off so bad, I can't answer for a sec, but his voice and his expression is super serious, so he's not even asking for the heck of it, and I figure I need to say something. I sit down across from him, "I can't tell. He's broke."

Sanzo nods.

"I had ta' pay for his food."

I shut up. I didn't mean to tell him that—I don't like keeping much from Sanzo, but I didn't want him to know that, 'cause I think it'll piss him off.

Sanzo snorts.

I take a sec, then go on, "He's acting bummed out too; maybe not bummed out, just…I can't figure out what's wrong with him."

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"The way he acts, I guess. He didn't even hit on the waitress."

"That's a miracle."

"It ain't normal though, right? What's with him?"

"Who knows? Who cares?" He doesn't sound like he cares now, the same way he's always sounded, and I wonder again why he asked me how Gojyo's doing. It makes me think he knows stuff I don't. Like the rumors he heard.

"Where'd ya' hear those rumors, Sanzo?"

He puffs his cigarette again. "A few monks went into the town to barter some things and they heard them. They told me."

"An' ya' really don't wanna' tell me what they said?"

"I took it with a grain of salt. It's not even worth passing along."

It must be everywhere though, 'cause Kumo acted like he knew also. He's not one of the guys that ever goes into the town, so he had to have heard it some other way.

"Don't worry about it, Goku."

"Is he depressed?" I ask suddenly.

"Gojyo? Hnph. How should I know?"

"C'mon." I cock my eyebrow at him, "I ain't askin' ya' to _care_, I'm just askin' what'cha think."

He rolls his eyes, "No, Goku. That idiot just doesn't get it, like usual."

"What's not to get?"

"I mean he doesn't know what to do."

"But why?"

"Who knows? I'm not the Gojyo expert. He's a dumb ass, that's all, and you shouldn't waste your time worrying about him."

"I can't help it. He just…" I think about the Gojyo I had dinner with, how he was silent for almost half an hour, and the worry is almost worse than being hungry, "He barely even ate, an' he just seemed so tired, almost not himself. It was way worse than last time I saw him."

Sanzo doesn't say anything about it.

"Ya' gonna' see him tomorrow?"

"_If_ he shows up, yes. If he doesn't…" he sighs, like the idea annoys him beyond belief, "I _guess_ I'll have to go to his disgusting _house_ and drag him up here."

I fidget with the empty coffee cup in front of me and stay quiet a long time. I can feel Sanzo watching me. He probably knows where this is going. We know each other really well.

"Maybe…you could talk to him."

"Feh. No thank-you."

"Why not?"

"It's not my responsibility."

"He might listen to ya'."

"I couldn't care less if he will or not, but since you brought it up, I don't remember the last time he listened to anything I had to say."

"C'mon, Sanzo. These're like, abnormal circumstances, or somethin'."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

With a sigh I give up, "'Kay." I stand up again, and he watches me. "What time's the thing tomorrow?"

"Late in the afternoon."

"Will I have time to eat?"

"Barely. Pack a snack or something. Not that it'll take very long, if the two of you are on it."

"Alright." I grab the doorknob, wait a sec, "Sanzo…d'ya' think it'll be okay?"

He waits a while too, then grumbles, "I have no idea. Just be ready for anything."

I leave his room feeling more worried than ever, probably 'cause I can just barely tell that Sanzo's worried too, and that's really not like him, so somethin's up. And the fact that there are rumors about Gojyo that are serious enough to make it all the way up here really bothers me.

_What the heck's up with that kappa?_

It doesn't really seem like he's in trouble or nothing, but for a while now, I've been able to tell that Gojyo is really, really lost, like not knowing what to pick off a really lame, little menu, and I guess that's what Sanzo means by 'he doesn't get it.' I dunno' how he got that way, but I need to start paying closer attention, 'cause for all I know I coulda' done a lot more for him than just pay for his dinner.

**Gojyo**

A hand grips my shoulder, shakes me, and I stir out of being half asleep, waiting for that familiar voice to say _'Good morning. I've prepared lunch, if you feel well enough to get up and come eat with me.'_

Instead, a gruff voice says, "Gojyo. Don't fall asleep in here—they'll kick you out."

I feel the cold, smooth counter beneath me, lift my head up off the bar, slowly, and look around, blinking. I am so damn tired. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life—my eyes burn, they feel like they're full of sand, and I just want to close them again. I look at Bao-zhi, but he's not even slightly like the guy I wish was sitting next to me. He's got his eyepatch and his mountain-man beard and his fur clothing, and one of his ears got ripped off during the calamity, so he looks more unapproachable than ever.

He frowns at me through the smoke of his cigar.

I yawn. "What time's it?"

"Almost four. I'm thinking about heading out."

Of course, when he does that, I'll be at the bar alone, and I don't want that.

"One more drink?"

Bao shakes his head, "Maybe you should just go home, Gojyo." He pays his tab.

I tell the bartender I'll settle up later and follow Bao out the door where another shitty, cold, gray, October day is forming. It's dead quiet. I feel nervous, glance over my shoulder a couple times as we go along. "Wanna' grab some food?"

"You couldn't pay your tab; I hope you don't expect me to pay for your breakfast, hot shot."

"'Course not."

"Anyway, I think I'm just going to go home."

"Yeah, okay." I mutter.

He gives me a short look, "You should go home too, don't you think?"

Home.

I stare up the street, north, toward the road that leads to my house. It's gray and cold like everything else. I can't think about that place for very long, that house, because it's not home to me anymore. It's just a place to crash at night. It's a roof over my head when there's nowhere else to go. It's a shelter I have when the weather sucks. Everything that ever made it feel like home is gone.

Nothing feels right anywhere though. I recognize the shit around me, but it's different. Or maybe I'm different. I stopped fitting in here.

I shrug, "Nah. I'll go see what everybody else is up to."

"At four in the morning?" Bao gives me a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Kill time." That's all there is to do anymore anyway. Kill time. Kill it and kill it and kill it until it kills me. I laugh to myself and start coughing, then I turn and look the other way, down the road, toward the south, where the 'bad' part of town is.

Most of the people who used to cause trouble in this town were youkai, so when they went berserk and ran off, there wasn't really a 'bad' part of town anymore. Youkai are moving back into our town now, slowly but surely, so crime rates are up a little, but maybe that's good for me.

Right now, it's dark down there; no light, no movement, not so much as a stray cat or a hooker looking to wear away the final hour of night with somebody. It's lonely. I'm lonely.

That's usually how I wind up on the wrong side of the tracks: being lonely and looking for company or somebody to cheat. That's how it was when I was a kid.

Then there was a long time when I didn't need any of that, and I stayed out of there, partly because I was always in thick shit with this town's big, bad ganglord, Gin Loki. The south side is not somewhere I've been welcomed to in a long, long time.

These days it seems like it's always calling my name.

Bao looks too, then takes another long look at me.

I chew my cigarette. I live in a small town—not _super small_ where everybody knows everybody's shit—just small enough that sometimes, if you're not careful, the shit you do can get around to almost everyone who lives there. I've been trying to hide my shit, but lately I've seen people looking at me weird, whispering to each other, and I don't know what they're looking at. I don't know what they're gossiping about. I tell myself it can't be me—I haven't done anything _that _bad yet—but I still wonder if my buddies know. I wonder if Bao knows.

I don't have any real friends left in this town anymore, but Bao is pretty close.

"What?" I demand finally.

"Nothin. I don't get over that way much anymore, do you?"

"Nn. Not much." I cough, "Loki's nuts."

"He is."

Bao stares at me a little longer, then turns away, "I'm going home."

"Right. 'Night."

"It's morning, Gojyo. Get yourself to bed soon."

It's not the way Hakkai would say it, but it's _like_ what he might say.

"Mind your own fuckin' business." I mutter.

He doesn't answer, just walks off, leaving me alone in the street.

Alone again. What difference does it make? I'm always alone these days, even when I'm with people. Even if I'm with _a lot_ of people, I feel alone. Nobody looks me in the eyes, nobody ever touches me, people try to cheat me, try to lie to me, try to rob me straight up, and no one's got my back.

Go figure. I almost forgot: that's the story of my life.

I don't want to keep standing in the street by myself, and I don't want to go home.

I turn east. It's a long walk to Keiun temple, and every time I go up there, the walk seems longer than last time; maybe that's because I've walked it so many times I'm just bored to death with it, or maybe it's because, these days, every time I walk it, I'm alone.

Whatever the reason, I'm not sure I want to take that long, boring, lonely walk all by myself today, because today feels even worse than yesterday, and yesterday was a God-awful piece of shit where Goku did nothing but ask me questions and I had the worst hangover of my life. Besides, I don't know if I want to see Sanzo today. I don't know if I want to find out what it is he has to say to me…

Rumors get around in a town this size. They could make it to Keiun, and I've always known that. What I don't know is what Sanzo would have to say about those rumors, if he'd believe them, if he'd give a shit about them. Not that _I_ really give a shit about what Sanzo thinks, but…

"Oh hell." I throw my cigarette down and start a new one. "I may as well go find out."

I cut through a shallow alley with a beaten, uneven ground and a flickering porch light, staring intently through the darkness as I make my way through town. My steps are sloppy and clumsy from drinking, but the fresh air will sort me out soon. I leave town, with all its solitude and darkness, cut across the path that would normally take me to my house, and keep heading northeast.

I'm halfway there when I realize Sanzo might not be awake at five am.

Maybe I'll just wake his ass up then. Life's way too boring since we came back from India, and almost unbearable since Hakkai picked up and took off, and maybe I could use a little drama, or a shouting match with Sanzo, or even a good fist fight, if he feels like throwing down. I can still kick his ass.

Nobody else is on the road. Normally when I walk to Keiun, I pass at least one monk who's going down into the town on business, or escaping from the thumb of Lord Sanzo, but it's still too early, even for them. The birds are starting to wake up, singing fills the trees, the air is chilly and tobacco tastes good.

I wish like everything this could be a normal day, but I know better than to think it possibly can be. Because yesterday sucked, and yesterday was worse than the day before yesterday, and the day before yesterday was worse than the day before that, and pretty much every day has sucked in some form or other for the last year, getting worse every day. So today is really, really going to suck, and I already know it.

What can I do though? I can't go home and hide under the covers like a little kid.

The sun is barely coming up when I reach Keiun, the sky turning pale, violet gray, with red streaks on the eastern horizon. That means it'll probably rain later. Great. A shitty, rainy day is coming my way. The woods look washed out and unreal. I've seen everything by this time. I went all the way to India and back, traveled all over Shangri-La, and nothing is interesting or eye-catching now. Everything is empty.

For a while, I loiter outside the wall and smoke; I wonder if Sanzo's gonna' be pissed off. I guess it depends on what he's heard and what he thinks about what he's heard. It doesn't seem like something he'd do, calling me up here just to lecture me about my life, but I don't know what else he could possibly want. Besides, the guy who's _supposed _to lecture me about the dumb shit I do is AWOL.

Go figure. We used to walk this path all the time, before we hit the road. Up, then down, back and forth, injured, not injured, sometimes bitching about it, sometimes just accepting it. Never alone though.

Today there are no jokes, no laughter, no teasing, no bickering, no nagging, no lecturing, no conversation. I hate it.

For about thirty minutes I hang around outside, and then I finally wander over to the gate, feeling a little more sober now—at least sober enough to put up with monks and Sanzo and maybe even Goku, if he's up.

_Hell, as if._ I don't feel up to deal with _anything_ today.

"Just one moment, please." The monk at the gate says.

I blink. I barely heard him, but it's not the thing he's supposed to say. He's supposed to open the gate like a good baldie. "Wait for what?"

No one answers me. Another monk rushes off toward the temple and disappears into the garden, but no one tells me why.

They just make me wait another fifteen minutes, or something, and I can't decide if I care or not. Caring hasn't been typical for me lately, but I guess I do feel annoyed.

When the monk comes back, he's got this guy with him. I've seen him at least a million times, but hell if I know what his name is. He's old, he's cranky, his beard grosses me out, and he's always giving me some death look, so I've always avoided him. Well, more like _Hakkai_ always insisted we avoid him. I think he even knew the dude's name, and was always making a point to tell me to steer clear of him.

I almost turn around and walk away, because I don't wanna' deal with Grandpa Grumpy Pants without Hakkai.

He fixes his pale, suspicious gaze on me as the gate swings open, slowly, and then he just stands in my way.

"'Sup, pops? You the man at home for the day?"

He sniffs at me, and he sounds like he seriously needs to get laid. "I take it you're here to see Master Sanzo."

"I'm here to see _some_ kinda' Sanzo."

This guy's probably never had any action in his whole life.

"Lord Sanzo has only just woken up."

"So I'll wait, or whatever. He called me, you know. He sent his special helper to specifically ask me to come here."

"I'm aware of that." He says, scathingly.

"What's your problem then? Get the hell outta' my way."

He sighs, like I'm the most intolerable, impudent piece of shit gutter-brat to ever crawl up out of the sewers. Nobody's treated me quite like that since I was fifteen.

"Hey, know what? I don't give a shit. Feel free to explain to him why I left." I turn to go out.

"I'll _escort_ you to his sitting room, and you will _wait_ there until he's ready to see you, is that clear?"

I glance over my shoulder at him. "The hell? Why?"

"Security measures."

Interesting.

I cock my head to look at him a while. This could have something to do with what a bad boy I've been lately. If Sanzo knows I'm up to no-good elsewhere, he probably won't want me in his temple where I could easily get my grimy hands on his rare, one-of-a-kind shit.

_So why the hell did he call me here?_

Maybe it's for a special smack in the head with that fan of his.

I feel a little cold as the thought hits me, _Can Sanzo…arrest me?_

He arrested Hakkai. But Hakkai was some insane murderer who had to be brought to justice, and the shit I've been doing is just…

_I mean, it's not _that_ bad._

I don't have anymore time to think about it. Grandpa grabs me by the collar of the shirt and starts to pull me toward the temple, and that does feel an awful lot like being arrested.

"I knew today would suck." I mutter, shoving his hand off.

Sanzo rearranged a lot of shit in the temple over the summer, so it's kind of okay being escorted to his sitting room, since I doubt I'd ever find it by myself. The old man is quiet most of the way, but as we get closer to the inner gate, he suddenly says, in a low voice, "If I were you, I'd stay out of this place from now on."

"Is that supposed to be some kinda' warning?" I blow smoke in his face. "Or a isit a threat?"

Coughing, he waves at the smoke, "This is a Buddhist temple; It's no place for the likes of you."

"Believe me, it's not my favorite spot. I'm here because Sanzo asked me to come here."

"In the future, I suggest you not come here for any other reason."

I glare at him, "Why the fuck do you think that, Grandpa?"

He wrinkles his nose at my language. "Because, you little heathen. I know better than to trust you. It's all over the face of the mountain that you've turned to a life of crime, and Master Sanzo knows it."

I stop dead in my tracks. Part of me really wants to think he's fucking with me.

"Furthermore, I know better than to think you're a friend of Sanzo's. We've all seen, time and again, how you disrespect him, even when he's gracious enough to let you sit in his presence; as if you're a _disciple_."

"Look, asshole, you better point me in the right direction, 'cause I ain't taking one more step with you and listening to your bullshit."

He looks, hatefully at me, grabbing me by the collar again so he can continue escorting me, and he hisses, "Listen here: I don't like you, and I know the master doesn't like you, and crassness will no longer be tolerated here, after today. I'll see to it myself, _hanyou_."

"You fuckin' sonnova' bitch!" I shake loose of him again. "Where do you get off?"

"I expect you to understand from now on that you're not welcome-"

I'm two seconds away from knocking his block off when a stern, calm voice cuts him off, like he's just the dumb, little broom-chaser he is. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I look up to see Sanzo standing on the other side of the inner gate, with that tired, pale, morning face I know so well, and he looks beyond annoyed.

We both stare at him. I wonder how long he's been there.

I shove the monk off me one last time and turn to face him, "It's not my fault this _asshole_-"

"Shut up, Gojyo." Sanzo opens the gate, smoothly.

"He-"

"Kumo. What the hell do _you_ think you're doing?"

Kumo drops his jaw, starts stammering, "L-Lord Sanzo! I was escorting your… _guest_ to the-"

"Who told you to do that?"

"Why, no one, I took it upon myself, so he wouldn't be wandering, lost, in the temple for-"

Sanzo just snorts and slants a glance at me, "Are you so stupid that you might actually get lost in this place?"

"Sanzo, this asshole…"

He ignores me, "From now on, Kumo, don't even _breathe_ on him without my permission. Is that clear?"

"But my Lord-"

"Don't _touch_ him. Stay the hell away from him."

I cut off in the middle of what I'm saying, completely shocked. Sanzo's never said anything like that about me ever before.

"I told you last night to let him in without any hassle, didn't I?"

"Y-yes my Lord."

"When I have to separate you like a couple of children, that's a hassle."

"Yes… I-I apologize for troubling you, Master Sanzo." He bows and starts to back away.

"I didn't say you could leave yet."

Kumo looks surprised and stops in his tracks. "Sir?"

Sanzo's face is serious as hell, "Last night, I would have let Goku throw you out in the pond over that shit-head comment you made. Do you remember that?"

The color drains from Kumo's face. "Yes, well I-"

"You're not excused just because you didn't realize I was listening. The next time you say something like that—to him, near him, about him—I might just lose my patience and shoot you."

Kumo looks like he might fall over.

I realize for the first time in my life that every monk in this place is probably terrified of their beloved 'Master Sanzo'.

"Master, forgive me, it was a slip of the tongue, nothing more—it won't happen again, I swear to you. I didn't intend to start an altercation, I only meant to escort-"

"What are you apologizing to _me_ for? I'm not the one you insulted."

Kumo stops dead and stares at him like he can't believe what's happening to him. He makes a couple pathetic, dry sounds, but no words come out. At last he stammers, "You, you can't honestly expect me to-"

"I do. Immediately."

Reluctantly, Kumo looks at me again. He bows, stiffly, "I apologize."

"I think you'd better do better than that if you don't want to be cleaning out the latrine for the next six months."

That must be a really awful job to get stuck with, because Kumo practically falls on his face at my feet, "Please excuse my language, Gojyo-san; what I said was out of line."

I think about kicking him in the head.

Sanzo snarls in my ear, "You better be gracious, or _you'll_ be the one cleaning the latrine for the next six months.

Harsh.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't even give a shit about what you said, Gramps. Just don't do it again."

"Of course not." Kumo keeps his forehead pressed to the ground. He really doesn't want to clean the latrines. "My deepest apologies."

I shrug at Sanzo, "Right on."

He's giving me a long, weird look.

"Anyway. What'd you call me here for?"

"You're early." He grumbles, tiredly, and then he goes back through the gate, "Get your ass in here."

I go after him, taking a couple glances at Kumo over my shoulder as I do, but he keeps kao-taoing until he's out of sight, then I catch up to walk beside Sanzo, "Hey, man, what you did back there-"

"I only did it because I didn't want you to lose your pathetic excuse for a temper and kill him over it."

"Whatever. What was his problem anyway?"

Sanzo shakes his head, "Maybe if you put the one or two brain cells you have left to work on it, you'll figure it out by yourself."

Then that means…

He's looking at me out of the corner of his eye, "It's none of my business what you do or who you get involved with, but don't even _think_ of making your mess mine."

That means he knows.

"That's not what you called me here for, is it?"

"Of course not."

"Goku said this's important… Where's he at, by the way?"

"He took a group of his students up into the mountains for training about an hour ago. He'll be back soon enough."

"Students? Damn. He's getting _smart_ on us now?"

"Unlikely. I was referring to the acolytes he teaches martial arts to, but I'm not shocked you don't remember that."

"Ah, our little man is all grown up. You must be proud."

Sanzo sighs, "It's too early for you. I wasn't expecting you for at least another eight hours."

"I was in the neighborhood. What do you want anyway?"

We're in the temple now, but it's totally quiet, with just a few monks rustling around in the halls. It's too quiet for me. It feels as empty as everything else.

Without really thinking about it, I rest my elbow across Sanzo's shoulder, "Hey…man…how've you been? I ain't seen you in a while."

"Busy as hell. I don't have a spare second to worry about any extra nonsense."

"Don't worry about it." I drag on my cigarette, "Nothin' I do is gonna' bite you in the ass."

He glances at me, but I can't read his expression. "It had better not."

We go a ways further, into the room where he usually sits and eats rice and drinks tea, like an old man. It's long, with a high ceiling, but narrow, with barely enough room for the table. There's some rice set out there already, steaming, freshly cooked. He sits down and picks up his chopsticks, gestures to the chair across from his, "Sit down and shut up."

"I wasn't sayin' anything." I grumble, going to sit down. I trip on the leg of the chair and I fall forward, barely catch myself on the table before I bust my head open along its edge.

Sanzo gives me a disapproving look, "What are you, drunk?"

"Maybe a little."

"Feh. How juvenile." He starts eating.

For a long time, we're there in the silence. I'm pretty much starving, my stomach tight with the pain of hunger, and I haven't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours except for the couple slices of pizza I had with Goku. I'm so tired, I want to just lay my head down on the table and go to sleep, but I don't dare do that with Sanzo sitting right next to me, glancing at me every now and then. I listen to the silence, and I can't help noticing that it seems to echo, even when there isn't any noise, like there's _supposed_ to be a voice, and there isn't.

Outside, the morning is brightening up, with golden light coming through the shivering, golden leaves on the trees. I sigh, which leads to a cough, light a new cigarette, and wait for Sanzo to strike up a conversation, even though I'm kind of relieved he's not ripping me a new asshole. Kumo said it's all over that I've 'turned to a life of crime', but that's just an exaggeration. I've just done a couple little things, every here and there, for the last few months, that weren't exactly legal. Tiny jobs, like the crap me and Banri used to do, before I met Hakkai.

_I wonder what Hakkai would say._

I don't really want to know what he'd think, so I ask, suddenly, "What's new?"

I'm not sure why, but Sanzo almost seems like he doesn't want to answer that question. He's quiet a little while longer, and then he grumbles, "Can't I just eat in peace? We'll discuss 'what's new' when I've finished."

He wants peace, but I don't. I want noise and sounds and words and something to fill the silence, to make me feel like I'm not alone, even when I am. "What about Goku? You gonna' make him a monk? He's gotten pretty important around here, hasn't he?" I can't really picture the Seiten Taisei being a monk, so it's really just a joke, even if it is lame. It fills the silence, that's all that matters.

Sanzo takes his eyes off his rice to give me a long, measuring look I'm not ready for.

I raise my eyebrows at him, "What?"

"What did you do to get him worried?"

"Who?"

"The monkey."

"The monkey? I dunno'. What's he got to be worried about?"

"I'm asking you."

"Hell, I dunno'. I didn't know he was worried in the first place."

"When he came home last night, he was acting worried. I take it he was with you."

It bothers me to hear that. I noticed the kid was asking a lot of questions yesterday, some of them really pushing it, like 'do you miss Hakkai', which is a dumb question I shouldn't have to answer, but I didn't think he was _worried_. Goku says whatever comes into his head, doesn't he? There's no reason to take it seriously.

"Is that what you wanna' talk to me about? Why I scared the monkey?" I scoff. Because it's dumb—as dumb as Goku's stupid question—so dumb I shouldn't even have to deal with it. I didn't do anything on purpose to freak Goku out, so it's gotta' be a misunderstanding, and I have no idea why Sanzo is intentionally getting in the middle of it, but I'm not about to sit here and tell him of all people about all the things that have gone wrong with my life in the last six or nine months.

"No, but now that you're here—eight hours early—I'm asking: what did you do to upset him?"

"Nothin'. Dinner was normal." _I _thought dinner was normal anyway. "He was cool when we left the restaurant. Sure he's not just hungry?"

"If it was about food, it would have been about food, not about you."

Does that mean they're talking about me behind my back?

Maybe things are even more out of control than I realize if they're talking to each other about me and worrying.

"Like I said, dinner was normal."

"I'm not stupid, Gojyo." He says it with infinite calm and superior intelligence, making me feel like, whether I tell him what's actually going on or not, he probably already knows why Goku's worried.

But I have to give him that. Sanzo's an asshole and a dick and a snob, but he's not dumb.

For the hell of it, I try to remember what Goku and me talked about, but the conversation is fuzzy in my mind, like I wasn't really there in the first place. At last, I shake my head, put my cigarette out, "I really don't know."

Sanzo looks irritated, then he goes back to eating.

I can't explain it, but I might as well try. Maybe if I give him a good excuse, the worry will stop, and then I can go back to minding my own business. "He was bitching about how late I slept yesterday." I yawn and wish I were sleeping right now; shit's way easier to deal with when I'm asleep. When you're asleep, it's impossible to tell what's going on in the outside world, or what's going wrong, or how you've messed up, or whether or not you're totally failing at life, and, more importantly, it's impossible to tell who's around and who's not. "I guess I had a lot to drink the night before, so I was still sleeping when he came around. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"You're a little old to be acting like that, aren't you?"

"I didn't realize it was wrong to have a few drinks when you're my age." I shrug.

"A few drinks."

His judgmental tone is the last thing I need right now, and I snap, "Hey, who the hell do you think you are, getting on my case about what I do?"

"It's like I said earlier: I don't give a damn, but I don't want it biting me in the ass later, and if you freak Goku out, it comes back to me, eventually. You might think about at least _pretending_ everything is all right as long as he's around."

I hesitate. Where is he getting all this?

"What's to pretend? Everything _is_ all right."

Come to think of it…it seems like Goku was asking me if things were all right last night too.

Why are they worried about that? Is it just the shit they've heard about the petty crime I've pulled?

_You're not fooling anyone_. I tell myself suddenly. _Some of the shit you've done is_ not_ petty. You could get hardcore locked up for some of it, and you know it, and if Sanzo and Goku know it, they have every right to be freaked out._

And even if it's _not_ about that, there are other reasons for them to be freaking out about me, because I know I've been acting weird lately. It seems like every time I turn around, they're showing up on my doorstep, unannounced, and I'm always either hung over, drunk, or still asleep. That right there is probably enough to get them wondering.

Come to think of it, that very thing happened a little over a month ago, which is the last time I saw Sanzo before today.

The thing is, I don't run around like I used to, not because I've gotten older or anything, but because, like almost everything else in my life, it just doesn't feel right anymore. But when I'm at my house, it's just too damn quiet, and I can't take the solitude and the loneliness, so I drink pretty heavily, almost every night, and in the morning, I'm usually still obliterated. I don't have anything to do, so I sleep a long time.

From the outside, that must look really messed up.

I wasn't expecting Sanzo and Goku to ever even find out about it.

They knocked on my door last month, at like two-thirty, and I barely managed to drag myself back to consciousness and stumble to the door to find out what they wanted.

I'll never forget the way they looked at me. Like I had some flesh-eating disease, like I was horrific just to look at, and even though I'd played it down, I'd known, even then, that it was because I was a mess, and because I was hung over at two-thirty.

Then they'd come in, even though I hadn't invited them to, and they'd looked around my house like it was a wasteland, while I'd grabbed a beer, because it was all I'd wanted at the time.

_"Where have you been?"_ Sanzo had asked.

It wasn't until later that I'd thought about how weird it was for him to ask me that.

_"What'dya' mean?"_

_ "We haven't seen you in more than two months. We figured you keeled over and died." _He'd said it in his deadpan, 'give a damn's busted' tone, so I hadn't thought much of that at the time either.

_"Just been busy."_

The way he'd looked around at my house after that, and the way he'd looked at me, had been so disbelieving, and so uncommonly disturbed, I'd kind of wanted to slink away and hide behind my couch. _"It looks like it."_

"Whatever you did, just don't do it again." Sanzo says, drawing me back to the present. "He annoys the hell out of me when he's like that."

I don't say anything as I start another cigarette, because I don't see anything wrong with having a little too much to drink and sleeping a little later than normal, no matter what the reason is, and for fuck's sake, I'm not _that _old. He talks like I'm over the hill, but I'm still in my damn twenties, aren't I?

"And by the way, you should think about pulling yourself together, because watching you fall apart so slowly is tedious. The least you could do is speed up the process."

"Who the hell says I'm falling apart? Shit ain't perfect, so what? And I didn't walk my happy ass all the way up here for a lecture, so lay the fuck off."

Sanzo's face and voice stay completely serene. "Shit's not perfect? Is that the lie that helps you sleep at night? Things will never be perfect, so if you can't hack the real world, maybe you should have-"

I shove the chair back violently, to stand up, "I don't have any fucking time for this, Sanzo. I don't know what the fuck I did to get you on my case like this, but I have a thousand other things to do that would be way better than this. So I'm fuckin' stumped, and if you wanna' let me in on what the fuck you're talking about, feel free, but do it later, because the last thing I need is for you to start telling me what's wrong with _my_ life." I stamp out my cigarette, angrily, turn on my heel to leave. I should have just gone back to my house after all.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"My house. It's too early for your condescending attitude."

"Then you should have come on time."

"Fuck off."

"I'm not done talking to you."

I stop at the door, using all my willpower not to shout at him, "Give me one good reason I should stick around and see what else you have to say."

He's still not ruffled, and I don't know why that is, because back in the day, it didn't take anything to get him to flip his shit. For the most part, if I flipped my shit, he'd flip right back. Maybe he's just gotten too mature to act that way now. Or maybe it's not worth it. Or maybe it's because I'm acting like a lunatic, and we both know it, so there's no reason for him to flip out too.

I think again about that day he came to my house.

_He hesitated at the door, just for a second, as he was leaving. Goku was already outside, yammering about how pretty it was. I was standing next to Sanzo, holding the door for him to leave, and I was a little bit annoyed that he was there at all, but he stopped and turned to me, expression sharp and dead serious, voice low, probably so Goku wouldn't overhear, "I'll give you one chance to tell me what the hell is going on with you."_

_ "And then what?" I sighed. "You're never gonna' ask again? Don't break my heart."_

_ "You can act like a flippant, little brat all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that everything is obviously really wrong with you, and you'd be stupid not to just admit it, right now, when you have the opportunity."_

_ I'd just taken a slug off my beer, "I have no idea what you're talking about; everything looks normal to me."_

_ He'd kept that ultra serious gaze on me until I almost couldn't take it, but I hadn't broken down. I couldn't let myself. "Is this about Hakkai?"_

Of course he'd think that. They were all going to think that, no matter what I did or what I told them. They were going to see me falling apart and just assume 'Gojyo can't hack it without Hakkai to hold his hand through life', so there wasn't even a point to arguing about it.

The truth is, Hakkai being gone doesn't _help_, but it's not the heart of the problem. I wouldn't know where to begin with explaining what got this all started; I couldn't explain it then, and I can't explain it now.

On that day, all I said was _"It's not."_ And it was probably the only thing I said to him that day that wasn't a lie.

Not like it mattered, because he didn't believe me. I know that, because he'd snorted and grumbled, _"Fuckin' liar._" And left me standing there, feeling like a stupid, helpless, ungrateful kid.

His opinion obviously hasn't changed; he can see I'm falling apart, because even though I'm trying to hide it, it's a lot like that vase I broke when I was nine, the one I tried to put back together with school glue and duck tape. There's no hiding something that's broken that bad, and when everyone sees how broken it is, they'll bust the shit out of you for it, the same way Mom did.

Sanzo thinks the reason for all of this is that Hakkai went away, and I can't tell him that it goes way deeper than that, but in any case, he probably doesn't bother flipping his shit when I flip mine now, because he thinks I'm totally out of control, and there's no winning a fight with me, even if I'm really, really wrong and I know it.

Besides all that though, I got the tiniest glimpse that day he came to my house, that Sanzo might actually be worried about me.

That's the only thought I have that makes me decide to cut him some slack, "Fuck. Fine. What?"

"I wanted to ask you for a favor."

"A favor? You think you deserve a _favor_ from me after I wasted six years of my life helping you complete your mission? I'm pretty sure you owe _me_."

"At least listen to what it is."

I snort and mutter under my breath, but I stay where I am and wait.

He sets his bowl to the side, lays his chopsticks down, lights a cigarette, then tucks his hands into the sleeves of his robe and sits back, calmly, like he knew all along I'd give in.

"There's a camp about five miles north of here. For the last week or two I've been watching it grow, but even then I wasn't concerned."

"Camp?" I sigh, "Like what? Not a summer camp." I'm too damn tired for this, I think to myself. I'm too tired, and I'm still drunk, and I don't want to do anything for Sanzo right now.

"I guess the most accurate way to describe it is as a militia camp. All youkai, as far as I've been told, and the consensus is, they've been displaced since the calamity. Obviously, they returned to their senses, tried to go back to their homes, and weren't allowed to, so they've banded together, set up a camp, and more and more join every day."

"How many?"

"About a hundred. Maybe a few more."

"So what's the big deal? It's not like they have anywhere else to go."

"Normally, I'd ignore it. But in the last couple days, some of my monks have been attacked while walking through the mountains, on their way to neighboring towns and what have you. No one was killed, but they made off with some important things, and with money." He levels another serious, purple-eyed look at me, "I'm sure you can figure out the rest from there."

"Uh-huh. I know the drill." I rub the bridge of my nose and try to make the headache that's coming on go away.

"The two of you should definitely have a plan before you go in, because even if they haven't killed anyone yet, that doesn't mean they won't. They're angry, and they're armed, and even for two of you, a hundred men is a lot." He waits a moment, probably for me to say something, then goes on, "I don't expect you to say yes to this, all things considered, but I have other things I need to be handling, so I can't go and deal with it myself. I don't know what your deal is these days—you look like hell, and you're drunk at six in the morning—"

"I'm only _kinda'_ drunk."

"But in any case, what choice do I have? Either you two deal with it, or the camp goes unchecked and keeps growing. I hate to entrust _anything_ to you, but-"

"All right." I interrupt. "Sign me up."

Sanzo's face looks almost surprised, but he just snorts, "Hn." Like he'd known all along that that would be my answer. "He's not back yet. You might as well go home and wait for him to show up—he'll have more instructions from me by then—and then you can get started from there."

"Nah, I might as well get started now."

He gives me another, longer startled face, like I'm really surprising the hell out of him. Then he says, "The enthusiasm's a nice change of pace for a slacker like you, but did you hear a word I just said?"

"Sure, boss. I'm stoked. Been a while since I had a good fight." And that at least is true. I've been so bored I can barely stand it, and in a way, a crazy fight to the death sounds pretty inviting.

His expression turns more serious, more annoyed, "This is dangerous, Gojyo. The calamity's over, but everything is far from perfect, and these people are a byproduct of everything we always knew was going to happen when we reversed the minus wave. They're angry and violent, and there's a reason I want him to go with you."

I shrug, "I don't need him watching my back—"

"Since when?"

"—I'm a damn good solo act."

"You're an _idiot_. You don't even know what you're up against."

I think about that. It all sounds typical to me. Dangerous guys that could kill me and need their asses thrashed. Nothing new about that. "Don't worry about me. Whoever they are, I can handle it."

"I'm not wasting any energy on worrying about _you_, dumb ass. I need this done right. If they get away and scatter in the mountains, we'll be that much worse off. Right now we know exactly where they are and how many there are—"

"So I oughta' get going."

He repeats, "I need this done _right_, Gojyo."

"Yeah." I sigh and stretch my arms, "Then you picked the right guy for the job."

Sanzo practically growls, "You're gonna' get killed."

"Heh. We'll see. Say hey to Goku for me." I flash him an impudent grin, a quick wave, and head out the door.

I walk five miles northwest, just like he said to, and that only takes me about an hour, so by the time I get there, I'm almost totally sober, and I can't figure out what his deal was, acting like I can't do this by myself. You'd think that after going on the journey to India, he woulda' learned not to doubt me, but then again, it's Sanzo, and he's an asshole.

I don't need anyone watching my back to do this, and even if I do, it doesn't matter, because nobody's here with me, and that's just something I have to deal with.

The camp is ragged and piss poor, just how I expected it to be, with some crummy tents and equipment, and everyone running around in hand-me-down military uniforms that don't match. They're all youkai, like Sanzo said, and there are probably about a hundred, even though I don't stop to count. The sun is fully risen, so I just march right in, throw my cigarette down, and get ready to deal out justice in full. It's been a long time since I had a good fight, so even though I'm tired, I'm ready to rumble, and from the way all of them are gawking at me, they don't have the first clue what to think. They're not ready to go. I am though. I'm ready to do whatever it takes, even if I'm kinda' gambling some pretty high stakes right now.

In the end though, it's not a big deal, right? I'm in my twenties, but I'm not some stupid, snot-nosed kid either. I've done this kind of thing a hundred times over again.

_Never alone though_, _Gojyo._ A patient, unreal voice in my head reminds me.

Sometimes I hear that voice and remember what it sounded like in real life, but it's whatever, because everything it's saying is just what I imagine he'd actually say, if he were with me. So really, it's just my voice.

I stop in the middle of the camp, with everyone gathered around, looking me up and down with interest, probably thinking I came to join their crew, and I don't even bother asking to speak to the man in charge. I just light a new cigarette and say, "Disband. Or I'm gonna' kill all of you."

Everyone laughs at me like I'm crazy, but maybe there's a good reason for that. It's not every day some guy just walks into your rebel camp and tells you to beat it. Then they make fun of me for a minute or two and talk about how crazy I am, and say all the normal bullshit about how I'm scrawny and effeminate and barely out of diapers, and yaddy yaddy yah.

Some guy who's probably the leader I didn't ask for, steps up to the plate and asks me who the hell I am and what the hell I think I'm doing, and tells me _I_ better disband before I get myself hurt, or worse.

I don't answer. I don't need to: I summon my shakujou, and that's all they need to see to know it's on.

It feels like it goes on forever. They come at me, four or five at a time, attacking with hatchets and blades and knives and clubs and all kinds of other tools, like shovels and rakes and whatever, and they're mean about it. They don't like having some guy wander into their camp and tell them to disband. Still, at first, I don't think they want to kill me. They fight like they just want to knock me out, maybe lock me up and question me about who sent me and why he didn't show up himself, and why he cares in the first place that they're around.

All I have to do is cut off a few heads to get them to change their minds about how to deal with me.

It takes longer than I expected, but I lose track of time right away. I'm barely aware of the sun climbing higher and higher above me as we fight, me fending off handful after handful, and them getting angrier and angrier. The shakujou's like a part of me now—I've had it a long time, and I used it almost every day when we went to India—I haven't used it in a while, since we got home, but that doesn't mean I forgot how to use it. All around me there are limbs flying and blood splashing and men screaming.

I take a little bit of damage when I've killed about twenty of them—a shallow slice in the arm, and another cut across the back—but I don't feel half bad. I'm completely sober, and I'm having the time of my life, because it's been forever since I got to cut anything up.

They just get angrier. It's got to be annoying to watch one guy take out thirty men all by himself. They bust out some guns, but that doesn't worry me. I'm used to watching out for gunfire, and besides, it's hard for them to aim at me when I'm going head-to-head with their comrades. More than once, a gunman blows the head off one of his friends, and the ferocity around me increases.

Someone grabs my jacket and I shell it off. It's a cold, mid-October day, the air is thin and the sky is pale, but I've got sweat and blood running down my face and arms. I'm breathing hard and grinning. I've missed this shit.

The only thing that could make it better would be to have Hakkai fighting at my back.

I push that thought away, because there's no time for it right now.

A really big guy comes at me, and the others all back off to watch and cheer him on—they sound pretty sure he'll finish me off, so I figure he's their strongest man or something. He's armed with twin battle axes, but they're rusty and crappy, and each of his arms is almost as big around as my whole torso, but he doesn't look too smart. I fight him a while, dancing back and forth with him, exchanging slash for slash, neither of us ever landing a blow. I feel one of the axes breeze past my face.

It misses, but it freaks me out. That was so long ago now, and I've almost completely put it behind me, but I can still remember how it made me feel, being twelve and watching her come at me, totally wanting to hack me into tiny pieces.

Yeah. That still freaks me out a lot.

Biting back a yelp, I lurch away from him, take a bad step, twist my ankle a little, and fall into the arms of some enemies who are clustered behind me. They all cheer and laugh and go crazy like they won, holding my arms tightly. Some douche bag grabs me by the hair and jerks my head back, so the big guy with the axes has a clear shot to cut it right off my shoulders. He stands over me and hefts an ax up across his shoulder.

My heart's beating so fast and so hard, it might burst. I battle away the urge to scream.

The voice is the only shred of him around, a clear reminder that he's not here to save me.

_You have got to keep calm._

Easier said than done.

Right before the ax falls, I summon all my strength and rip away.

The blade goes sawing through a group of his comrades, chopping off their legs and arms and even their heads.

For a moment, he's too stunned to move.

With a single flick of the chain, his head's rolling too, and I'm already off to fight the next challenger.

Now though, I'm starting to wear down. Almost getting killed with an ax—again—has me gun shy, and I let my guard down a couple times, barely manage to avoid getting shot or maimed or decapitated myself.

How many are left anyway? I lost count a while ago of how many I've killed. I just know that I'm tripping over a body with every step I take, and my boots are sloshing through blood.

_Perhaps you never should have come to do this by yourself…_

"I can handle it."

I fight that much more fiercely, slicing through groups of them like they're made of butter, over and over and over until I'm covered from head to toe in blood. Their leader attacks me. He's got a pistol and a pretty nice katana, and he's hell-bent to kill me. He clips my left shoulder pretty good and blood pours down my arm and drips from my elbow, but that just pisses me off, and I drive at him, going right in for the kill, face to face. He's not expecting it, and he probably thinks I'm crazier than ever. He takes a pop shot at me, but the bullet barely grazes my neck. I knock him down and cut his head off too.

More guys rush me from behind. They're coming at me ten at once now. How many have I killed?

I'm exhausted, and there's no end to this in sight.

I push them back, and there's a short pause in the fray, so I scan the area around me, but I don't see anybody I know, and now that I think about it, I'm not exactly used to being on the battlefield all alone. Not anymore.

_It would be nice if one of them would show up…_

But that's definitely not going to happen, so again, no point in thinking about it.

I throw myself back into the fight and keep pushing. My throat is dry, so is my tongue, my face feels swollen from the blows I've taken, my wounds are stinging. Still, it isn't so bad. There are probably only fifty left now.

_Fifty. Holy shit._

How long is it going to be before I can get out of this and go home?

It's starting to feel like hell now. My head's aching and I'm thirsty. I'm used to having someone around to watch my back, so it's way too often that a bastard gets behind me and almost knifes me when I'm not paying attention, and as the fight goes on, that gets more and more common. Eventually, I do get stabbed, but I know it's coming, so I manage to turn to the side, take the knife right in the side instead of through the lungs, and it glances off my rib and tears through my muscle.

It hurts like fuck, but it's not the worst I've had.

_You just need to focus._

How am I ever going to get out of this?

I slice another arm off. There are still so many of them left, and I'm starting to think Sanzo could have been wrong about the numbers. There are more than a hundred. There have to be.

_How am I gonna' get out of here?_

_ Focus. That's how. You keep your head and just keep fighting, and you'll make it._

It's the only advice I have—hell, it's the only_ encouragement_ I have—and it's my only choice, aside from surrendering or dying or running.

I could surrender, but nobody would come and save me, so they'd probably kill me eventually. If I die, I definitely lose. And run? There's no way I'm running back to Sanzo and telling him I couldn't do it alone.

There's nothing to do but keep fighting and win. It might take hours and hours, but at least I'll come out ahead.

Right now, I'd settle for breaking even.

My legs are getting wobbly and my whole body is throbbing, muscles shaking, knuckles aching from clenching the shakujou so tight.

In a way, they're slowing down too, coming at me one or two at a time, taking forever to attack in the first place, hanging back and waiting for their turn, but I don't think it's because they're scared. I think it's because they don't think I'm going to last much longer.

But they're wrong. So wrong.

_I'm not gonna' lay down and die. Not here. Not doing some bullshit errand for Sanzo._

I always said I wasn't going to die doing one of his stupid jobs, and I still wasn't going to.

_Yes, but you were careless this time, Gojyo. You shouldn't have come up here alone._

What choice did I have?

_You could have waited a few hours, like Sanzo told you to._

But what difference would that make? Having Goku with me wasn't going to be the same as…

_I can't think about that shit now._

I attack the next man, beat his face in with the shaft of my shakujou, screaming, I keep fighting, hacking, slashing, ripping, sawing and slicing through everything that moves. I just have to try harder, and then, before I know it, I'll be out.

Splitting pain shoots through my skull, starting at the base of my head and spreading out and up, then my vision goes black and I fall forward, arms flailing, hands searching for anything I can grab onto to stay upright. I lose my grip on my shakujou as I'm going down.

When my vision clears, a man is standing over me with his sword raised, seconds from stabbing me through the heart, but I scramble out of the way, and he narrowly misses me.

My weapon's gone, so I have to hesitate a second to summon it again, then I cut the guy with the sword right in half, his body flops over in two different pieces.

"Bring it on, you bastards!" I scream. Blood is dripping into my eyes. My head throbs.

I attack them, carelessly, throwing myself into them taking swing after swing at them, but my vision is blurry, a little, and I miss a few swings. I get kicked in the stomach and stumble, fighting to stay on my feet.

_Losing control and giving into panic and fighting heedlessly will not get you out of this fight, Gojyo._

That voice. It's so weird to have it interfering every passing second. Too bad it can't help me.

I whip the sickle around me in a broad circle, taking out ten or fifteen of them at once, and more blood sprays over me. It's all I can see or smell or feel: thick, sticky, red blood. I don't know how many enemies are left, but it's starting to look like I won't get out of it.

I fight and fight and fight. The sun is directly overhead, but I don't care. I can't do anything but keep fighting until I win or fall. More of them come at me. Somebody narrowly misses shooting me. I sever his hand. My leg burns, and when I look down, it's coated, the whole thigh, in bright red. I scream out of frustration and attack crazily. I cut through about five people, consecutively, but it doesn't matter. It's starting to look like I might actually die doing this, like Sanzo said.

_That guy cannot be right._

I hate it all. I hate it all so much. I hate the way things have been going lately, and I hate the way things are, and I really hate that I can't fix them, and that I don't know how to, even if I wanted to. I hate the horrible feelings that have built up inside me, and the fact that I can't make them go away. Not by myself.

I hate, hate, _hate_ to be alone. That has never changed.

More than anything, I hate that Hakkai is gone.

Yelling at the top of my lungs, I whip around to take on the next wave of them.

There's just one guy standing there, dripping with blood already, holding a wound in his stomach, and staring at me with eyes as big as plates, so I stop short, scream dying away, and face him, shakujou shaking in my grip, saturated in pain and blood, barely able to stand, barely able to see past the veil of wet red over my eyes.

The guy looks pretty young. Like twenty or twenty one. He's just gaping at me still. We face each other a while, both of us fighting to breathe, it feels like, and then, finally, he gasps, "Wh-who the hell…are…you?"

With a jerk of my head, I lower my weapon and let it disappear, practically whispering, "I have no idea."

For another second, he stares at me, not even blinking, and then, carefully, he starts to back away, never taking his eyes off me. When he's gotten a good ten paces out of my reach, he turns and runs, and never once looks back, and I'm left standing there with all the men I killed.

I stare around at the massacre, and I can barely believe it. I can barely believe they're all dead. A whole hundred? Unless some of them ran off, but I don't know why they would. They definitely had to have thought I'd be easy to take out.

And considering the way I've been lately, and how much I drank last night, how little I slept, I probably should have been.

I grope around for my cigarettes, but they're supposed to be in my coat pocket, and my coat is gone, hidden somewhere in the bloody mess around me. At last, I just snort and forget about it. I still have my lighter anyway—I can buy a new pack of cigarettes, but my lighter is one of a kind, and it stayed with me the whole way to India and back, so I don't want to lose it. Ever.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I start to pick my way across the battlefield, feet dragging, tripping over bodies and slipping in muddy, mucky, reddish puddles. The reek of death is all around me, but I ignore it and stumble back into the woods; I don't know what time it is, and I don't know how long that took: I just want to go home.

I start coughing when I've only gone a little ways, and I can't stop for a long time. I'm coughing so hard, it hurts, and I can't breathe, and I'm spitting up saliva and blood, even though I don't know if that's because I have internal bleeding, or if I just got hit in the mouth too many times. Exhausted, I fall to my knees, clinging to the trunk of a tree, cough and cough and cough until I'm on the verge of passing out, and then, finally, it stops, and I can breathe again, so I make myself get up and keep walking.

Forever I walk, but I don't know if it's the right direction. I know I need to go down. South. But…I can't tell which way is which. Sometimes I feel like I'm going in circles. The whole way, I feel like I'm never going to make it. I'm starting to feel dizzy, and my whole body is shaking and cold, sweat is pouring down my face and arms, mixing with the blood, stinging my eyes. Before long, I start to feel pretty sick, and it takes all I've got not to fall down and throw up. I can't believe I have to walk a whole hour just to get back to Keiun. And home? Damn. That feels like it's days away.

After what seems like days, I start to give up hope that I'll ever make it back. I'm obviously going into shock, and even if I'm not some medical genius who picked up and went back to college, I know that's not good.

Before too much longer, I can't walk anymore, and I fall down on my face, dangerously close to passing out.

The woods are peaceful and bright. I'm lying right in the weak, October sun, with birds chirping all around me, and I can barely stand to move, so I don't care about the peace or nature or the sun or the birds, or even my life, really. I just want to lay still and rest a while. And when I'm done resting, I'll get up and go back down to Keiun. Just a little rest. Just to close my eyes a second or two. I'm not going to sleep out here in the middle of nowhere, I'm just going to rest my eyes.

Everything hurts so much, I almost can't feel the pain in the first place. I know I'm bleeding, but other than that, my thoughts are cloudy and distant. All I know is, they're all dead—I did my job, like I said I would—and Sanzo's gonna' have to face the fact that I did something right for once, even by myself. It'll be good to knock him down a peg.

_Yeah…but I'm not making it home…_ I think, tiredly.

Even in death, it's nice to know he was wrong.

I fumble around and find that I have my cigarettes after all, in the back pocket of my jeans, so I dig one out. The tear in my arm is gushing dark blood.

That imaginary voice comes again. _It's a clean cut at least. I suppose it'll be easy enough to close._

It's in my head. It's all in my head, and I know it. Nobody's here to stitch me up or heal my wounds. Nobody's here at all.

I'm on my own.

But I've had worse. This pain is nothing.

_It was certainly careless of you…_

Suddenly, I'm laughing like a maniac, my voice ringing through the trees, silencing the birds and everything else for miles around, but it doesn't seem any less surreal than his does.

What I really want to do is scream. Just scream and scream and scream.

My eyes are burning, after a moment, and I feel something hot and wet running down my face, to my ears, but I pretend it's blood, and just keep on laughing like I'm insane. Maybe I am insane. Maybe Sanzo was right, about me not being able to hack it.

Not like it matters. I'm done for this time.

"Nice knowin' ya', buddy." I choke.

I close my eyes, but they're only closed a moment, then I can feel someone standing over me. Through the haze of pain and my exhausted thoughts and the red filter over my vision, it almost looks like it could be him.

He laughs a little bit too. "My, aren't you an absolute wonder?"

"An' you're a sight for sore eyes." I reach up and grab his collar, pull him down with me. There's nobody I'd rather have with me when I die. It almost chases the pain away to know he's there, to know it was all a dream, and I was never alone.

He puts his arms around my back and my neck, cradles my bleeding carcass against his shoulder, and I feel warm. It'll all be okay now.

Of course it will. He'll heal me, and then he'll drag me home, and scold me for being careless, and life will go on, the way it's always been.

The smell of sake and laundry is stronger and more real than anything else I can sense.

"Damn, man…" I murmur against his shoulder, "I missed you like hell."

"I never left; don't you know any better?"

"Naw." I close my eyes again, still smiling, "Guess not."

"You're an idiot."

I open them.

Sanzo's standing above me, gold hair shining in the sunlight, but I can't see his face.

Slowly, I blink, but nothing changes. It's still Sanzo, I'm on the ground, barely more than a bloody corpse, and Hakkai is nowhere to be seen.

"How'dya' figure?" I chuff.

"What the hell were you thinking? You went up there not even knowing what you were supposed to do or what you were supposed to get, or _anything_. You didn't even listen to the end of my explanation. And, you almost got yourself killed. Are you some sort of fucking kamikaze now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Not a damn thing."

"Sure. Then what'dya' come all the way out here to get me for?"

He shifts, puffs his cigarette, "You have no idea where you are, do you?"

_Where I am…?_

I try to sit up to get a look around, but I can barely move, and pain cuts through me like a knife to the bone.

"I can't believe how stupid you are, falling down to die just a few hundred yards from a Buddhist temple."

Does that mean I actually dragged myself back to Keiun?

I start to tell him off, but I choke on my own blood, and the words gurgle away into a painful cough.

Sanzo sighs and reaches down, grabs my shirtfront, roughly, "Get the hell up, you son of a bitch. Now."

"Son of a bitch…" I a bitter smile curves on my lips, then I laugh, shortly, "I really am."

"Shut up, Gojyo." Sanzo chuffs under his breath.

I can barely stand, so I put my arm around his neck and lean on him, and he actually lets me. He actually starts hauling my broken ass back over to the temple, where I can just make out the roof, towering way above me. As we go along, I take one last, almost desperate look around, making sure it was all in my head. Making sure he's not there.

He's not.

I don't remember passing out, but I guess I must have, because I wake up in a room that's smaller than my bedroom back home, and twice as empty, with nothing but the narrow cot I'm lying on and a single lamp that's burning off to the side. It's night outside, so I must have been out for a while, and my wounds have been half-ass tended to, with a makeshift bandage job and a few stitches where they're needed. There are probably a couple monks running around Keiun that know some first aid, at least enough to stitch up the slashes I came back with, and maybe I should be grateful for that, but more than anything, I'm annoyed, because this isn't how things are supposed to be, and it's my fault they turned out this way.

Things are sort of fuzzy to me, but I guess the fight on the mountain was real, even if now it kind of feels like a messed up dream, and Sanzo probably saved my life, dragging me back here.

When I've been lying there a few minutes, the door slides open, and Sanzo steps in, not much more than a white shadow in the dim light, spewing a thin cloud of smoke. "Did you finally wake up?" He demands, gruffly, like it's a huge offense to have passed out after pulling an all-nighter and then climbing the mountain to fight and kill at least a hundred guys.

When I laugh, it feels like something inside of me is breaking. I don't have anything to laugh about at all. "Funny, huh?"

He's quiet for a moment, and then he growls, "What the hell's the matter with you?"

Slowly, I sit up, only half paying attention to him as I try to block out the pain that shoots through me.

"What did you think? That you suddenly have some free pass to be even more careless and stupid than usual?"

I draw a sharp breath, doing my best not to wince, "What're you bitching about? I got your damn job done."

Sanzo looks seriously angry when I say that.

"Hell, last I knew, that was the only thing you cared about to start with."

He doesn't say anything. I wonder if maybe he doesn't know what to say.

Shoving the pain aside, I heave myself to my feet, groan. It feels like someone's stabbing me in the stomach.

"What do you think you're doing now?" He snaps.

"Job's done, right? I'm heading home." My leg is on fire, and my arm is tingling with numbness from bicep to fingers, my head is spinning, and honestly, I feel pretty sick, but I can't let that shit stop me. I shove my feet into my boots, not caring if they're laced up or not, and grab my shirt, glad to find my cigarettes and lighter nearby. I could really use one about now.

Sanzo hisses, "You've gotta' be kidding. Are you really that much of a dumb ass?"

"Hey, I figured you'd be happy to have me out of your hair."

"Believe me, I would be."

"Cool. So then, I'm gonna' go. Send me a check later."

Without warning, Sanzo grabs the front of my shirt, giving me a rough jerk that surprises the hell out of me, and glares into my eyes, "Drop the stupid act, kappa. Do you want to die?"

I laugh, "Nobody _wants_ to die, boss."

He keeps glaring daggers at me, but maybe he doesn't know how to stop me or even what to say in this situation. Eventually, he snarls, a little bit maliciously, "Purposely taking idiotic risks isn't going to change anything, you know. He's still gone, and _you_-"

Angrier than ever, I jerk loose. He isn't expecting me to, so it's easy, and then I turn my back on him, heading for the door, "You think that's what this is about? Better keep guessing, boss—you're way off the mark."

"I don't need to guess: it's obvious what's going on. Don't expect me to make some big deal out of it and try to intervene though, because it's not my problem you're so messed up, and I don't give enough of a damn about you to go out of my way to fix it."

"Okay." I say, with forced cheer, just to piss him off. I don't want to argue about any of this. I don't even want to think about it.

Sanzo glares at me a little longer, and even though he just said he wouldn't intervene, he says, "You're stupid if you think you can walk home in this condition. If you value your life, you'd better stay here until you've healed a little."

"What's that, a death threat? Sounded awfully close to giving a damn, Sanzo." I look back at him, pointedly, daring him to take this any further in either direction.

It surprises the hell out of me to hear him say, "Even _I_ don't think you should go home right now. What does that tell you?"

"Eh, whatever. I don't think I'm hurt that bad. You know, on second thought, I'll bill you." With that, I throw the door open and step out.

He doesn't come after me—he wouldn't in a million years, even if he's actually worried—and I go into the hall, fighting back the twinges of pain that speed through my torso and limbs, and lighting my cigarette.

I can't believe how conceited Sanzo's acting. As if I went out there over some stupid sense of angst or regret; no, that's not it. That's not it at all. It's just that nothing makes sense right now, and maybe I thought I'd find something that _does_ make sense while I was there. Or maybe I'm just bored.

Life is so boring now. Everything I've always done to keep myself entertained or even to keep myself alive, bores the hell out of me. It was boring before Hakkai left, and now that he's gone the boredom is worse than ever. How are you supposed to move on and find something new without your best friend?

_It's hard. It's harder than I thought it would be._

I mean, did I _actually_ think that when he was gone I could fall back into place with my routine, like it never changed? Like I could just go back to my punk's life like Hakkai never existed? How could I think something so dumb? I learned within two days of him being gone that there was no way that was ever going to happen.

_I still tried though, Hakkai…I still tried the best I could to make it work without you._

I haven't gotten very far when I hear footsteps coming up behind me, and Goku's voice calls out, "Hey, idiot! Where're you goin'?"

He sounds kind of peeved, so I stop and turn back to look at him, "What?"

The kid's storming toward me, and his face shows that he's more than just peeved, he's straight pissed. He's fucking furious.

He's also half a head taller than I am now, and a lot heavier and built sturdier, and right now I feel like he could knock me over with a feather, so I take a step back.

"What the heck's wrong with ya', dumb ass? Why'd you go without me?"

I figure he's angry that he got left out, "Relax, little monkey. There'll be plenty of other fights for you to clean up in. So you missed one. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal?!" He practically yells.

His voice makes my ears ring. "Somebody had to get the job done."

He's almost to me now. I wonder for a second if he's going to charge me and ram me right against the wall. "Yeah, but ya' didn't have ta' go all by yourself! Why didn't ya' wait for me?"

"There'll be other fights, Goku, and this one wouldn't have even been a challenge for you."

He's right in front of me, so he stops, glares in this serious, adult way that makes me want to laugh at him.

"You really don't get it, do you?" He demands.

"Not even a little." I lean back against the wall and keep smoking. "Everybody's pissed about _something_. All I did was handle the situation Sanzo asked me to take care of."

Goku kind of gets in my face, "Idiot. Ya' almost died."

"Yeah, but I didn't."

"Why didn't ya' just wait for me? It's not like ya' actually care about the stuff Sanzo wants!"

"Because, I'm a solo act now. I work crap like that alone."

He stares at me a little longer, and the anger softens, slightly, but it doesn't go away completely. His voice lowers too, "So what? If he can't go with ya, nobody can?"

I try to stall so I can think of a good answer. "What? Who?"

_"Hakkai_."

"Oh. Nah, it's not that. It's just that I did the teamwork thing for way too long, and now I just wanna' do shit my way. You get that, don't you?"

Goku looks kind of confused, but I notice that it isn't the same kind of blank, stupid-ass-monkey confusion he used to get. It's more like he doesn't know if he totally believes me. "Yeah, well I think he'd kick your ass if he knew what ya' did yesterday."

It hardly registers with me that I must have slept for more than twenty-four hours. I know he's right. Hakkai would be straight pissed if he heard about what a stupid thing I just did. I know it's stupid—I knew it was stupid when it went. But I knew I wasn't going to die, that's the point.

"Who—oh, Hakkai. Nn, maybe. What's it matter? You gonna' tell on me, baby monkey?" I grin at him, even though the spinning in my head has gotten worse and I kind of feel like throwing up and passing out.

I totally expect him to scream at me and call me cockroach and perv and kappa and all the other dumb insults he's come up with over the years, but he doesn't, and I'm more surprised by that than anything.

Instead, he shakes his head, "Don't…do that again, 'kay?"

"We'll see. Like I said, I wanna' work that crap by myself from now own, so I-"

Goku touches my shoulder, "Please, Goj?"

It startles me, the sincerity in his eyes and the pleading sound of his voice, and the gentleness of his hand on me. I've never seen the monkey look quite like that, and I can see how worried he is. That makes me feel bad—I didn't mean to make the kid worry…I guess I didn't think about that. Finally, I shrug, "'Kay. Sorry."

"I mean it, Gojyo. Don't do that again."

"I'm not gonna', all right? What's the big deal?"

"Ya' really don't know?"

"Guess not." I lie.

"Geez, you're stupid, Gojyo."

I'm not about to stand around and get called stupid by the monkey, so I try to shrug his hand off and step around him.

Goku presses me back into the wall, like I'm just a little kid. "Where're ya' gonna' go now?"

"Home, I guess. I'm beat."

"…Maybe you should hang out here for a coupla' days."

"What for?"

"'Cause you're hurt kinda' bad."

"I've had worse." I rub my forehead. If I don't sit down soon, I'm definitely going to pass out, and Goku's slowing me down.

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean it's cool for ya' to just walk off like this."

"Whatever Goku." I'm finally starting to feel annoyed with him, "It's not gonna' kill me to walk home, now get out of my way."

He doesn't move.

I push him aside, after a short staring contest, "I said _move_."

Goku lets me go. I know he has no idea how to stop me any better than Sanzo did, so there's nothing they can do besides let me go, and maybe check on me later, if they even bother to do that.

"Just be careful, 'kay, Goj?"

"Yeah, yeah, is there any other way to be?"

"An' you should get a doctor ta' look at you."

"You know it."

"Get a shrink while you're at it."

I know that's not a joke, not even a little, but I still laugh about it like it is.

Nobody laughs with me, and that's the story of my life.

I feel Goku staring after me the whole time I'm walking down the hall, until I go around a corner and he can't see me anymore.

"Geez. What's the deal anyway? I'm not hurt _that_ bad." I'll go home, have a quick drink or two, take it easy, and be fine in a couple days, like always. I can't understand what they're flipping out for. You'd think they've never seen me do anything careless before.

By the time my house comes into view I still don't know what time it is or even what day it is, and I can't actually remember the last time I was here, and I'm not exactly thrilled to see it, even though I'm ridiculously tired and in pain. I shove the door open—it's not locked—and it creaks. The whole house is dark, but I call out, "I'm ba-ack."

No one answers.

I stumble over into the kitchen and flick on the light, find a shot glass that isn't too dirty and grab a bottle. I don't know what it is, since I apparently tore the label off it at some point, and everything looks the same to me. Smells like either whiskey or rum. It's all good, so I sit down at the only clear spot on the table and pour myself a shot, then I sit there for a while, drinking, and looking around the house and listening to the quiet. It's strange how, even though I've been living in the same place for so long, it suddenly doesn't seem the same anymore. It feels like someone else's house, like I'm just crashing here a while.

After a few drinks, my head starts to spin. I sigh and take one more shot before folding my arms over the table and laying my head down for just a moment.

It's only a second later when Hakkai comes into the kitchen, Jeep riding up on his shoulder, chirping and whistling, cheerfully. He stops in the doorway, and they both look at me, Hakkai smiling, Jeep bristling and shaking his wings out, excitedly, "Good morning, Gojyo."

Outside, the sun is up, and it looks like a nice day, for October.

I stay at the table, even though all I want is to get up and go to him and wrap him in a bear hug, or sling my arm around his neck, or punch him in the shoulder, or just stand there, next to him, for a couple minutes, but I can't move, so I sit there and look up at him, sort of startled, "H-hey… What's up?"

"Oh, the usual routine. And what about yourself? You're up rather early, so I hope you haven't been sitting there all night."

"Um, I dunno." I glance around the house, but everything's where it's supposed to be—nothing's moved, nothing's changed—and I wonder how long I've been sitting there, but I can't remember if I passed out, drinking, or if it's something else.

Hakkai keeps smiling as he enters the kitchen, "Well, I'll make us some breakfast, and then, perhaps you'll gain the clarity you need to sort it all out."

I watch as he goes around the room, getting the shit he needs to make breakfast, and the longer I watch, the more convinced I feel that he's actually there, and that I must have made that other thing up, "Dude, 'Kai…"

The tone of my voice must alert him that something's up, because he turns to me, seriously, but still smiling, "Is something wrong?"

"No. No, everything's cool." I can barely choke those words out, because I can barely believe this is real. I can barely believe that everything really _is_ cool, but he's acting so normal, it has to be. He's just there with me, and that's beyond cool. It's too good to be true.

He keeps watching me, patiently.

I mutter, "Damn, man, I had this really crazy dream that you were gone."

"I was gone?" He tilts his head, very faintly, and then he looks more indulgent than ever. "What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno'. Just gone." It's all starting to seem more and more stupid by the second.

"I see. I left you behind, did I?"

"Yeah, man, it was really nuts. And Sanzo was being a dick, and I almost got killed. It was so crazy."

"Why would you have such a dream? I already told you, long ago, that I would never leave you behind."

I do remember that, from years ago, right after we met. He said he wouldn't ever just leave me out of nowhere… Why shouldn't I believe him? I trusted him with everything.

"Right." I grin, feeling way better now. "Just a fucked up dream."

He smiles back, "Of course it was. Where in the world would I ever go without you?"

It's such a relief to hear him say that, I actually start to laugh—a short, nervous chuckle, because I hate to think I look weak or stupid or needy right now—and then I reach out to him, because I want to touch him for a sec. I want to feel, with my own hands, that he's actually there, or else I might never genuinely believe it.

Hakkai's still smiling, brightly, but he suddenly turns away, "Excuse me, Gojyo." Then he walks back into the living room.

The smile falls off my face, "Hey, 'Kai?"

He heads right for the door.

"'Kai?"

The door swings open and falls shut.

"'Kai!"

I raise my head up off the table, where it's pillowed against my arms, throbbing, throat dry, eyes burning, then stand up immediately, staggering slightly, "Hey, Hakkai." The house is quiet and dark—way too quiet and dark. It's dark outside too, and the clock says two-thirty-eight.

I follow him through the living room, to the door, "Hey, Hakkai!"

Everything around me is empty: there's nothing but my handful of feeble, cheap shit, but I still can't believe this is reality. I don't want it to be. "Hakkai?" I throw the front door open and stumble down the stoop to stand in the yard, turning all around, searching for him, desperately, because he was _just_ here, just a second ago. "Hakkai!"

Nobody answers. The forest around me is totally quiet.

I shout at the top of my lungs, "HAKKAI!"

Forever passes, and I wait for him to answer. Any time I've ever called for him like that, he always answered me, no matter what. If he's somewhere he can hear me, and I call, he answers, and he comes back. Always. Nobody's ever done that before. Not even Jien. I could have screamed after Banri until my lungs bled, and he wouldn't have even looked over his shoulder. Hakkai's the only one who comes when I call for him.

Not this time though.

I hate it. I hate that feeling of calling and of not having him answer. I hate knowing that, wherever he is, he can't hear me.

Slowly, I give up. My shoulders slump, and I drop my head a little, turn to go back inside.

_Just a dream. Just a stupid, idiotic, meaningless dream…_

Still, I'm not totally convinced he's not here somewhere, sleeping, maybe. Maybe he'll leave soon, maybe he won't even be here tomorrow, but he has to be here now, so I go to his room. It's shut, like it usually is when he sleeps, and my hands are shaking as I turn the knob and carefully push it open, "Hey, 'Kai?"

Nothing. Just a bunch of boxes stacked off to one side that I haven't gone through yet, but even his bed is gone, so the room is empty.

A long moment passes, and I stand there, staring, breathlessly. At last, I heave a sigh, and lean, heavily, into the doorway.

"'Course not." My own voice says, softly, and then, for some reason I can't explain, I sink to the floor and lie down there, in his room, on my stomach, all my wounds throbbing ad burning unbearably. Looking up through the curtain of my hair, I can see the frosty moonlight on the tree outside, the branches etching across the sky, and the stars beyond them, but the house is still, and the moon is no comfort at all.

I'm alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: So, I should say that, to those of you who haven't read my other Saiyuki fics, it would be best to read Missions and Violent World before you read this one, since I'll be referencing events from those fics here and there. At least Missions, anyway. I think this fic stands on its own pretty well, so it's not imperative, but it could be better… =] Enjoy!**

* * *

_It seems like everything is gray and there's no color…_

**Sanzo**

I sit at my desk, tapping my pen, over and over, and even though I should be trying to get some work done, I can't. I don't want to admit it, but I'm disturbed by what happened. Severely disturbed.

Because I've never seen him do anything like that in the whole time I've known him. I've seen him do plenty of ridiculous, stupid, careless shit, and for ten years it's always seemed like if I wasn't yelling at him, Hakkai was scolding him, and every time he was between one or the other, it was because we hadn't noticed yet that he was doing something dumb, so he's always been reckless and impulsive—I saw that on the first day I met him—but it's always been in a semi-oblivious way, and a lot of the time, I always assumed he was just too stupid to fully realize any danger he might be in.

Not yesterday though. What he did yesterday was beyond stupid, reckless or oblivious: it was straight up suicidal.

At first, when he walked out of here, I thought to myself, _He's stupid and he doesn't really get it, or he's drunk, and he's not thinking clearly, or maybe he's just gotten cocky after all the years of busting skulls._

There's nothing I could do though. I sure as hell wasn't going to follow his dumb ass up the mountain, so either he'd come back, or he wouldn't, and it wasn't my fault either way.

Then when he'd gotten out of bed and decided to walk home in spite of his injuries, that's when my thoughts had changed.

I'd dragged him into the temple, on my shoulders, all by myself, because the monks were all either being squeamish about the blood, or they didn't want anything to do with Gojyo in the first place, or a combination of both, and honestly I didn't have time to worry about them. All that meant was I'd stitched his wounds up myself, so I knew exactly how serious they were, and I'd been around enough blood and guts, and seen my team mates injured often enough, that I knew whether or not he should push it and how far he could. And the answer was 'not very far'.

So when he woke up and insisted on walking home, that's when I'd had the thought. _He's lost it. He really wants to die._ _Even he can't be so stupid as to think he can walk out of here like this._

He knows his own limits better than I know them, so it's not impossible that he genuinely thought he could make it home and still be okay, but in my opinion, it's not a risk he should have taken, and that's what makes me think he went up there hoping to get killed.

I was shocked to hear him agree to go in the first place. For months, I haven't asked him to do anything; I didn't think he'd want to do anything by himself, and I didn't think he'd want to go with Goku—he can deny it all he wants, but I know how much it bothers him to not have Hakkai around—but more importantly than that, I didn't think he _could_ get anything done by himself. I had a feeling he'd act this way: careless and idiotic and inconsiderate.

I had no idea it was going to be full-on self-destruction, or I wouldn't have sent him. I'd have gone myself.

Why is he acting this way? It seems like an intense over reaction to missing his best friend.

In ten years, I can count on one hand all the times I've seen Hakkai and Gojyo away from each other for more than a day, but I never thought it was because they couldn't stand to be apart; it was more like, no matter how far away they got, they always just wound up being together again, in a little while. Probably because they wanted to be, but still, it had never seemed like any kind of disgusting, insecure, pathetic, clingy need on either of their parts. And that's why I didn't think Gojyo was going to freak out after Hakkai went away.

Honestly, I don't completely understand them, and I never have, but I've been able to infer that there's something at the core of both of them that connects, perfectly, on a spiritual level. How else could two such outrageously opposite people get along so well? It took me a little bit of time to see that their connection was real, that they weren't taking advantage of each other or hanging around one another out of a sense of obligation. I'd seen right away that Gojyo apparently gave a genuine care about Hakkai, because when I came to arrest him, he'd been willing to put himself in harm's way to protect him. As for Hakkai, he was more difficult to read, and for a long while, I'd assumed he was living with Gojyo, picking up after him and taking care of him like he was a child, out of some sense of gratitude, because he'd saved his life.

Over time though, I had seen that his feelings were genuine too. It was all over, in the way they looked at one another and talked to each other, and in their body language. There was always this strong signal of 'nobody messes with this guy, because I'll fuck up anyone who tries it', even on calm days when there wasn't anyone to fight.

I guess I had a hand in that, even unintentionally, because I'd sent them to do so much for me, so frequently, for so many years, just the two of them, and I wasn't naïve enough to think there weren't times when they didn't almost die. I knew damn well they had to have watched each other take bullets and get cut open and busted up and knocked around dozens of times. I know there were missions where the only tattered, scanty thread between being alive and being dead, for them, was the fact that they were together.

I know Hakkai saw Gojyo almost get his head ripped off by a monster I sent them to kill, because he told me all about it when he dragged Gojyo back here, and he wouldn't shut up about it, for hours, while the Kappa was sleeping. I remember clearly how distressed he was that he'd let his partner get so close to danger. It had been all I could do to calm him down and convince him that Gojyo's actions weren't his responsibility.

I know Gojyo seriously fucked up once and let Hakkai go to fight a serial killer, by himself, when he wasn't in any kind of state to be fighting so much as a little girl with a lollipop, and I remember how briefly, and guiltily, and moodily the words 'I almost let him die' had slipped out of his normally flippant, vulgar mouth, and how much that had affected me on a personal level, to see Gojyo actually taking responsibility for something that was actually his fault.

What I don't know is why they stopped all that shit that obviously meant so much to them. I don't know why Gojyo didn't just go with Hakkai to school in Hong Kong, and I don't know why Hakkai didn't try harder to make him go. I was shocked as hell when I found out Gojyo was staying here, but it wasn't my business to make inquiries. I did expect Gojyo to break down and go with him, or change his mind and follow him. I expected Hakkai to throw himself on the ground and beg him to go.

Two days before he left, all four of us went to have dinner.

There was subtle tension in the air that night, so subtle, Goku hadn't even noticed it, but I knew it was there, and the two of them were obviously aware of it, since it was all their fault to start with. I remember thinking that, even though they were right next to each other, they'd seemed miles apart already, and I'm familiar enough, unfortunately, with all their idiosyncrasies, that I'd seen, clear as day, how Gojyo was acting crass and glib and happy-go-lucky, like tomorrow was never coming, and Hakkai was never leaving, and I'd noticed how dark Hakkai's eyes had been, how annoyed he was that Gojyo was acting that way, but that he didn't know what he could possibly do about it, how miserable he felt, even when he was smiling that charming, hair-raising smile of his.

Eventually, in all his typical obliviousness, Goku had made the mistake of asking Hakkai a fatal question.

_"Arent'cha' gonna' miss it around here?"_

For a split second, the table had been so quiet you could have heard a noodle fall on the floor.

_"Yes, of course. I'm sure I'll miss it terribly."_ Hakkai's face and voice had been grave.

Gojyo had laughed, outright, _"Please? This piece of shit place? What the hell is there to miss around _here_?"_

_ Hakkai had turned on the smile, ever so slightly, to look at him, but it wasn't his sarcastic smile, it was something much more genuine and warm, "Well, _you're_ still determined to stay here, aren't you?"_

_ "You couldn't pay me to go." The Kappa had obviously missed what Hakkai meant, or else he was ignoring it on purpose, because he couldn't deal with it._

_ "Are you quite sure? Because I will pay you to go."_

_ Gojyo and Goku had both laughed. Did they think it was a joke? I could see easily how much Hakkai meant it._

_ "Name your price." He'd persisted, in a gentle, almost pleading tone. "I'll give you half my salary for the rest of my life. I'll pay your half of the rent. I'll never ask you to contribute to the grocery fund ever again."_

_ At some point in there, Gojyo had stopped laughing and stared at him._

_ Goku had kept chuckling, more nervously now._

_ Hakkai hadn't seemed even slightly deterred by the fact that people were watching him practically beg Gojyo to go with him, "Whatever it is…that makes you feel like you have to stay here…_I'll_ deal with it myself, so you won't have to, if that'll convince you to go."_

But he hadn't. He'd stayed behind, and he wouldn't say why.

I guess I had my suspicions, and Hakkai had obviously _known_ the reason for it.

Still, regardless of everything they'd been through and how much they meant to each other, I didn't really expect Gojyo to come unglued over the fact that Hakkai was gone. He had no right to, because he'd chosen to stay here when he damn well could have left.

Could the fact that he's acting like this now really have nothing to do with Hakkai? He says that it doesn't. He keeps telling me that isn't it. Gojyo's a liar, but only when it comes to owning up to what he really thinks and feels, so I tend to take it with a grain of salt that he insists that his behavior has nothing to do with Hakkai, but that doesn't mean I don't consider other possibilities.

Hakkai is part of it at least. He has to be, because he's been a huge part of Gojyo's life for ten years.

Hell, he's been a large part of mine, and of Goku's, and I can't say his going away has left us completely unaffected. There have been days when I've felt bewildered or lost by the fact that he isn't around, because he's been the closest thing I've had to intelligent conversation for the last decade, and he's been almost a secretary to me, dealing with little, annoying details all the time, just so I don't have to, and he's kept me sane through all of Goku and Gojyo's bickering and bitching and playing. Sometimes, knowing he's not within walking distance anymore almost scares me, because, dammit, like it or not, I've always relied on him.

Goku's had that teacher-student relationship with him ever since they met. He looks up to him, and he trusts him like the rest of us do, and I know full well who the monkey goes to when something doesn't make sense or when things bother him. I know Goku misses Hakkai, and I know he's perplexed by the fact that he's gone.

Hakkai is damn close to being everything to Gojyo. He trusts him one-hundred percent, more than he trusts anyone else, and he relies on him almost constantly, probably on an unconscious level, to accomplish all the real-life bullshit Gojyo never learned how to deal with by himself. He talks to him and is honest with him in a way he's convinced himself he can't ever be with even Goku or myself, probably because he thinks Goku is stupid and that I don't give a shit. He's not just his best friend. He's the brother he stumbled across one night when he couldn't find his real brother, and he'd more or less given up on ever finding him, and Hakkai turned out to be a truer brother than that guy anyway, which is probably the only reason Gojyo didn't ditch the team when he did finally run into Dokugakuji.

If Goku and I feel confused or lost by the fact that Hakkai is gone, I haven't really wanted to think about or confront how Gojyo might feel about it, because I don't want to get all involved in his problems.

But if he's going to start acting this way, passively destroying himself over it, I probably can't look the other way anymore. Annoying as it is, as much as I hate it, I don't think I can stand by and let that dick get himself killed.

I know that there's a lot going on with him right now, and maybe it really doesn't have anything to do with Hakkai, but maybe whatever's got him so messed up falls under the ever-expanding category of 'real-life bullshit Hakkai has to deal with, because Gojyo never learned how to'.

For example, those rumors… The hearsay about how he's gotten involved with the big ganglord in town, how he robs and steals and runs drugs and God knows what else, for some half-mad youkai bastard, the way he would have when he was seventeen and didn't know what else to do…that all bothers me a lot more than I can admit to, because it hints at a psychological disturbance, just beneath the surface, that I personally wouldn't even know how to deal with. Goku, willing as he may be, wouldn't know where to begin either.

Bottom line, Gojyo wouldn't go and get wrapped up in that kind of depravity just for fun, so he has a reason, and it can't be a good one.

For weeks now, I've been toying with the idea of mentioning it to Hakkai, but I think if I wrote and told him, straight away, 'Gojyo got himself mixed up with a gang' it would cause more trouble than it would help. All that would achieve is that Hakkai would drop everything he's doing, which isn't right in the first place, and haul his ass back over here, under some misguided impression that he has to save that idiot from some disgusting life of crime, he'd throw that front door open, and probably start right in on how stupid Gojyo is and give him some brutal lecture that would last for days.

The kappa deserves that, but I know that if anyone gets on his case and tries to tell him what to do with his life right now, he'll shut down and refuse to listen; that's part of that psychological disturbance I keep getting glimpses of.

So I've held off on saying anything to Hakkai, even when Goku and I went to their house and found it trashed, with Gojyo still half in the bag from the night before, wearing clothes that had obviously been worn for weeks, not eating, only sleeping when he's drunk enough to pass out, barely speaking, showing every outward sign of depression I can think of. I know writing 'Gojyo's insanely depressed' won't be productive either.

But now that he's gone off and nearly gotten himself killed, I don't know that I can go on not mentioning it. Something is seriously wrong, and if someone doesn't step in soon, something will happen to him. It could be that he'll get capped in a gang fight, or it could be he'll drink himself into a stupor, give in to the depression, and overdose on pain pills. Either way, I don't want that shit-head's blood on my head just because I didn't say anything, and at the same time, I have no idea what to do with him.

I've never figured out a good way to deal with Gojyo; we don't see eye-to-eye, and even though I know he respects me, on some level, most of the time he won't listen to anything I have to say. That's probably partly my fault; I've done a really good job of convincing him I don't give a damn about him. Unfortunately, I failed at convincing myself of it—I'm smarter than he is, so I know when he says 'I hate you, Sanzo', it's a lie, but after hearing me tell him the same things, over and over, about how I hate him and I'm just waiting for the day I can put him out of his misery, he obviously believes it now. He'll never let me help him. Even if I go to him and tell him, without any ado 'I just want to help you', he won't believe me, and he'll keep acting like nothing matters, until I get annoyed and scream at him, and we'll wind up fighting.

It goes without saying that he'd never stoop so low as to let 'the baby monkey' in on his problems, let alone accept his help.

Hakkai's the only one who can deal with this the right way, and I know that if I get him over here, and they have enough time to be around each other, Gojyo will probably just admit to Hakkai what's going on by himself, and then they'll handle it together, the same way they've handled hundreds of problems in the past.

It seems like the only choice I have, if I want to keep Gojyo from getting killed.

Begrudgingly, I admit to myself that I don't want that moron to die, and then I pick up my pen again.

* * *

**Goku**

"Oy! Gojyo!" I knock, again, harder this time, and I'm getting kinda' annoyed, "How hard's it ta' open the door?"

I'm not just annoyed though. I'm worried too. It's been about three days since he went on his crazy 'suicide mission', like Sanzo calls it, and I woulda' checked on him sooner, but Sanzo said ta' leave him alone. So I did, for as long as I could, 'til the worry was about to drive me crazy, and then I came down, not knowing what to expect. Sanzo still says I should be leaving him alone, but I don't get why. He was hurt kinda' bad, and he was acting weird, and if it actually was a suicide mission, I really don't get why I should be leaving him alone.

Now I'm wondering why he won't open the door.

"I'm gonna' bust it down!" I shout, knocking more.

Finally, inside, I hear a muffled, "Alright, alright. I'm comin'."

A second later, Gojyo opens the door, looking irritated, "Geez, man, what's the emergency?"

I look him over quick. He still looks busted up, and I think he's wearing old bandages, but he seems okay. I mean, other than he's kinda' a mess, and he's squinting at the light like he just woke up. I'm still relieved. I hold back a sigh.

"What's your problem, monkey?" Gojyo's lighting a cigarette and coughing.

"Just wanted ta' make sure you ain't dead."

"Why would I be dead? I'm really not that old." It sounds like he's teasing me, but I don't care. I'm not in the mood to joke with him, not when he scared me so bad. You don't usually go up into the wilderness with some kids you gotta' teach martial arts and then come back to somebody telling you 'Gojyo almost died'.

'Course, Sanzo probably didn't have to say it that way—he coulda' broke it to me easier—but since he's Sanzo, I wasn't surprised that's how he did it.

"'Cause ya' got hurt." I tell him, sincerely, "And then ya' walked down here when ya' shouldn't've."

"This again? Please." He yawns, "I didn't get hurt _that_ bad."

"Maybe. Anyway." I step past him and go inside, 'cause I know he's never gonna' invite me in, since his house is a dump these days. I glance around at the mess, and I almost can't believe this is the house he and Hakkai lived in for so long. It's all trashed and dirty and empty and it reeks like booze and garbage. That's normal these days too though, so I don't say anything anymore. Back when this all started, when he started acting weird, I brought it up every now and then, but he didn't care about what I had to say. I mean, I heard that Gojyo almost never cleans, and they all told me Hakkai was the one that kept the house straight, and that the house was kinda' messy before Hakkai showed up, but I think it's outta' control now, and if I noticed, it has to mean something.

"Sure. Come on in." Gojyo chuffs, "Don't bother raiding my kitchen though—I'm out of snacks."

"I ain't done that in years." I answer matter-of-factly, and then, before he can start arguing with me about it, I ask, "How'dya' feel?"

"Fine." He shrugs. "Why?"

I repeat myself as patiently as I can, "'Cause ya' got hurt."

"Damn, monkey, calm down about that, would'ja? You're gonna' give yourself an aneurism."

Not answering, I look at him a while. This is about the time we should start teasing each other, but everything's been weird, so I haven't teased him about much of anything lately. In a way, I feel like I should, 'cause I think he's just about to blow a brain cell trying to act normal, and I could probably help him out by treating him the way I used to, but I'm worried, and I can't help it.

Gojyo looks back at me a moment, then leans casually against the wall, smoking still, "Well, sorry you came all the way down here just to ask me how I feel."

"I'm not sorry—I wanted ta' make sure you're okay."

"Wish I had a cookie or something to give you, but all I got is some beer, if you want it."

"Naw. That's cool. Why don't'cha' have any food?" It's not new either, him not having food, but I don't understand it anyway. I don't understand how someone can just not have food and not even care that they don't have food. I think if I was living some place that wasn't stocked with food all the time, I'd go pretty much nuts.

"Haven't gone to buy any in a while, that's all."

"So what'dya' eat?"

"I've got stuff to eat."

"But ya' just said you're outta' food."

"I told you I'm outta' _snacks_; you're the one who said I'm outta' food."

"That's all ya' eat is snacks; besides, ya' just told me all you got is beer."

"I've got stuff to eat, Goku." He repeats, impatiently.

"Yeah, but what?"

Gojyo throws his hands up a little, "Look, if you're so worried about it, let's go have lunch or something."

I really, really want to. I wanna' so bad, I barely keep myself from shouting 'okay, let's go!" and running out the door. Lunch sounds good—I haven't eaten in three hours, so I'm really, really hungry, and I don't wanna' walk home on an empty stomach, and I like going and hanging out just with Gojyo. Maybe I can get him to tell me what's goin' on, and why he wouldn't wait for me the other day and if he's really okay.

"Naw, I don't think that'sa' good idea." I say, finally.

Gojyo raises his eyebrows at me, "_You_ don't wanna' go get lunch?"

"Not today."

"Okay, what is wrong with you? Are you sick? Did something happen?"

"No, I'm-"

"You're really Goku, right? You can't tell me you ain't hungry—you're _always_ hungry. Always."

"I'm _hungry_, sure. I just don't know if I really wanna' go to lunch today."

He eyes me suspiciously. "You're hungry, but you don't want to go to lunch? Did you lose your mind?"

"No. Look, you're hurt—"

"Yeah, you keep reminding me."

"I just don't think it's a good idea for ya' to go runnin' all over town. Is it? You should be takin' it easy."

Gojyo studies me a long time, and I can't tell what he's thinking, but I know it's weird for me to say stuff like that to him. He's older than me, and he's always been like a big brother to me, and until recently, I've never gone out of my way to tell him something like that before. These days it seems like I say stuff like that all the time, and it makes me feel like I grew up, but he never did.

With any luck, he'll just listen to me, say 'you're right', an' go sit down on the couch, beause that's the mature, adult thing to do is.

Finally he grins at me and says, "Riiight." Like it was a joke. "Anyway, I was just about to go grab a beer somewhere anyway-"

"Why'dya' need to go grab a beer if that's all ya' got around here anyway?"

He makes this obnoxious 'you're an idiot' face at me, shakes his head in disbelief. "You're welcome to come if you want, or you can head on back to the temple and keep acting like a prude old lady. Your call." With that, he goes, grabs his coat, lights another cigarette, and sits down to lace up his boots.

At first, I try to talk him out of it, but I don't really know how. I tell him he's stupid, and remind him that he's injured, and almost start begging, but he doesn't listen to any of it, and he's got some dumb, dopey reply to everything I say, and eventually he gets up and heads out the door, and I've got no choice but to follow him, and it's no shock. Hakkai used to mention it, every now and then, how impossible it is to get Gojyo to listen, and how frustrating he can be, and now I'm seeing what he meant first-hand.

Hakkai musta' figured it out though, 'cause it seemed like he was always getting Gojyo to do stuff, or convincing him not to. I wish he was here now to do whatever it was he did; I really don't think Gojyo should be walking around too much.

Then again, maybe it doesn't make any difference to begin with—he's been here by himself for three days, and I doubt he's been sitting home alone for all that time. Maybe there's nothin' I can do to keep him from being an idiot about this.

He looks over his shoulder at me with another grin. "Ready?"

I don't know what else to do, so I go with him. I figure, even if he's gonna' keep being stupid about how bad he's hurt, and even if he doesn't want to listen to me, then at least, if I'm with him, maybe I can keep an eye on him.

We walk into town, and it's a slow day everywhere I look. There's just a few people wandering the streets, but they're quiet and watchful, and they don't look like they're out to party or cause trouble. They're probably going home from work, or somethin'. I guess it's a Monday, and not a lot of people go out on Monday nights. Gojyo does though—as far as I know, Gojyo goes out every night, and he always had, since he was just a kid. Gojyo ain't really _that_ old, but even if he is a little too old to go out every night, and party, and get drunk, and pass out on the bathroom floor, that's just 'cause most people his age don't act that way, and the thing about Gojyo is, he's super immature.

It's not four yet when we go into this small, crappy, bar that's fulla' smoke and smells like beer and bad bar food. There aren't a lot of people in it, but the ones I do see are kinda' grungy and cranky-looking. When we walk in, the guy behind the counter almost yells, "Hey! What're you comin' in here for? Remember what I told you last time?" He even comes around from the counter and walks right up to Gojyo.

Gojyo has his hands in his pockets, and he looks anything but worried. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. You really gonna' chase off a customer?"

"Maybe if you were a _paying_ customer I'd rethink it."

"I'm gonna' pay. What's your deal?"

"No way, Gojyo." The guy says. He's way worked up. "I don't like the way you handle paying lately."

"Oh, gime' a break. I've been coming here almost every night, for years, and now you don't want me around? That's a real heartbreaker—seriously. And I like this place so much too. I can't believe you don't trust me."

The guy looks almost guilty. "Yes, but-"

"I told you I'd settle my tab next month, right?"

"Well, yeah, but do you even know how much-"

"Doesn't matter, Jun. If I say I'm gonna' settle my tab next month, that means I'll settle it next month. Since when do you not believe me?"

Jun kinda' sighs, then tries one last time, "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that it's all over town that you-"

"What? You're gonna' listen to some messed up rumors instead of taking the word of an old friend?" Gojyo sounds honestly hurt by that, his voice kinda' quiet and disbelieving. "Jun. I've known you for years."

Jun shakes his head, then mumbles somethin', and he looks at me, "What about _you_? You got any money?"

"Yeah. 'Course." Is all I can say, 'cause I'm just sorta' stunned. Why would I go into a place to eat, or drink, without money?

He mumbles something else, turns back to Gojyo, "On the first. I better have the money by then—all of it—you got me? Otherwise, you'll have to sweet talk the police, and I don't think even _you_ could do that."

"Serious?" Gojyo snorts. "C'mon, Jun, you know Banri was the sweet-talker, not me. When I say I'm gonna' pay, I pay."

"But _when_?"

"On the first." Gojyo pops a cigarette in his mouth and walks away, picks out a booth on the other side of the room, and slides into it, waves for me to join him.

I feel even worse about all this than I did before. I don't know much about Gojyo's relationship with people in this town, and I'm not sure what sweet-talking is, I don't know who Banri is, exactly, even though I've heard the name before, and I don't know if I believe Gojyo about paying up on the first of the month, but I don't have any reason _not_ to believe him, 'cause I trust him. As I step around Jun to go after him, I get a quick look at his face, and I can totally tell that he doesn't believe or trust Gojyo, not even a little. I wonder what his tab is like and how long it's been since he paid it.

Gojyo and me sit at the bar for hours. At first, I order some food, and Gojyo orders a beer, but it takes my food forever to come, even though the place isn't busy, and when I whine about it, he tells me to quit being a brat, and try to act my age as long as we're there. By the time my food finally comes, he's had two beers and he's working on the third.

When I ask him if he's getting food, he just shakes his head.

"Isn't that what we came for? 'Cause you don't have food at your house?"

"No. I came for beer. Damn, monkey, your brainpower is not improving with age." He smirks.

I'm supposed to fight with him about that, right? I'm supposed to blow up and say I'm not a monkey, tell him I'm not stupid, say _he's_ the stupid one, call him roach and perv and cockroach, and whatever else comes to mind.

But I'm not in the mood, and I don't wanna' get distracted, so I skip the whole thing, "So you're not gonna' eat?"

Gojyo looks kinda' surprised that I'm not fighting with him this time, so he doesn't say anything for a minute, then he shrugs, sits back in the booth, and takes a gulp of beer, "Guess not right now."

"What's with that? Aren't you hungry?" I can't imagine sleeping all day and not being hungry when I woke up.

"I'm _broke_, Goku. What, did you miss the whole conversation we had with the barkeeper when we came in?"

"But he said ya' could pay your tab later."

"Putting a couple beers on my tab's one thing. Jun's gonna' flip a bitch if I try to put dinner on my tab."

"Seriously? You don't even got like thousand yen ta' buy some dinner?"

"I dunno'. Maybe somewhere. I'll have to check my couch cushions some time."

"How come you're so broke?"

"Just happens sometimes." He takes another gulp of beer.

"Yeah, but don'tcha'-"

"Goku. Damn, dude, chill out with the questions. It's not a big deal, okay? I'll eat later."

"How? Ya' don't have food at your house, and you ain't gonna' eat here, and you're broke."

Gojyo laughs, like I'm kidding with him, "Look, don't worry about it. I'll get food somewhere—I always do."

He says it's not a big deal, but I still think it is, so I wind up buying him dinner, 'cause I don't think it's cool, getting up at three in the afternoon, then doing nothing but drinking for the next twelve hours. He tries to tell me I don't have to, and he argues with me a little, but he doesn't try _that_ hard to talk me out of it, and I try not to feel annoyed. I _just_ bought his dinner the other night, and I know this will be another time he can't pay me back.

To make it all worse, he doesn't even eat all his food. He eats about half of it, and then we sit there forever while he keeps drinking beer, and I have a little more food, but when I'm full, I'm bored, and I'm ready to leave. Gojyo leaves his half-full plate and wanders off though, taking his beer with him.

Then he plays pool and gambles and hangs out with different people. That's cool, at first, it's not like he's ignoring me or nothin', but I'm not too great at pool, and I still suck at cards, and the people are okay, but I don't know 'em, and it's getting dark out, and in a while, I'm bored again. Before too long, I'm just sitting by myself, off to the side, watching Gojyo get drunk.

I'm not sure why it bothers me. It shouldn't.

Gojyo's been doing this a long time—his whole life, for all I know—it's what he does for fun, and it's how he makes money. Besides, he's laughing and smiling and having a good time, and he doesn't act like he's in pain, or like anything's bothering him. So stuff's cool, isn't it?

Besides, it's normal for him to be broke, right? Even if he's broke, that doesn't mean something's wrong. Gojyo plays cards for a living, and he's good at cards, but still, it's not like he's got a job that pays on a schedule. I guess, if he doesn't win, he doesn't have any money. He hasn't done anything for Sanzo since Hakkai's been gone. When we first got back here from India, there were a lot of messes to clean up that Hakkai and Gojyo dealt with for Sanzo, and sometimes I went too. The other day, when Gojyo went by himself to take on those guys in the mountains, it was the first time he'd done something for Sanzo in over a year, 'cause it's been more than a year since Sanzo asked him to do anything. Lately, I've been doing whatever Sanzo wants.

I don't really know why he hasn't been asking Gojyo to do stuff, since Gojyo obviously needs the money way more than I do, but when Gojyo got hurt, a couple days ago, I heard Sanzo mumble 'I knew this would happen all along' a couple different times.

I want to know what it was that Sanzo had known and what he meant, but I don't really know how to ask.

And he hasn't paid him for doing that yet either, 'cause he says Gojyo's an idiot, and he walked away without his payment, and if he wants it, he has to go back up to Keiun and get it.

I have no idea why Gojyo left without taking his money. I have no idea why he'd go out there by himself and almost get killed and then not ask to be paid for it.

That's not true. I got _kinda'_ an idea, but I'm scared of it.

Even if the way he's acting seems pretty normal, I still feel like something's wrong. I just don't know what.

It worries me though, and suddenly I get up and go over to him. He's pretty drunk, staggering around and slurring his words and sloshing beer all over the front of his shirt, but he's still laughing and shooting pool and teasing people, the way he always does. He's looking and acting and sounding and _seeming_ normal, but there's something small and quiet inside him that's off, and he doesn't exactly smell right either. He smells stressed—that's the best way I know how to describe it.

I touch his shoulder, "Hey, Gojyo?"

"'Sup?" He turns to look at me, like he's really interested in whatever I'm about to say to him.

"Let's get outta' here, 'kay?"

"Leave? The night's young. Why?"

"'Cause I'm bored, an' you're drunk."

"Nah, I'm jus' a little sloshed."

"Yeah, okay. But I'm bored."

"Well. Get some beer an' be sloshed with me."

"I don't really wanna'."

Gojyo shrugs and turns back to shooting pool, "So go home. 'S'okay."

I stand there, not knowing what to do with that at all. I wonder what Hakkai would do. Maybe he'd know how to _make_ Gojyo go home, or maybe Gojyo would have enough respect for Hakkai that him wanting to leave would be enough to convince Gojyo to go home—one thing I definitely don't have, is Gojyo's respect—but I guess maybe, in a situation like this, even Hakkai might not be able to get him to give it up. Would he leave him here? I know I don't want to, but that's 'cause he's hurt, and he smells weird.

I try one more time, "We've been here a real long time."

"'S'only like wha? Nine? It's not even late."

"Yeah, but, it's not 'cause it's late. It's 'cause you ain't really…_you_ right now."

That gets him to stop, for a sec, and he looks at me again, "What'dya' mean?" his face is serious. I musta' hit on something, even if I don't know what it is, exactly.

"You're just kinda'-"

Across the room, somebody calls out, "Yo! Gojyo! How the hell you been, man?"

I look over and see a guy who's just coming through the door. He's about as old as me, with short, black hair and kinda' pale eyes. He's wearing a gray uniform of some kind that's a little dusty and greasy. He's a human, and he's smiling real big, like he's way happy to see Goj.

I notice Gojyo rolling his eyes as he faces the guy and gives him a half-assed smile, "Hey-ya, Rong. Long time no see."

"You can say that again. I was thinking you skipped town."

They clasp hands, bump against each other, and pound one another's backs all at the same time, and, I get the feeling he's a little closer to this guy than to the other people in the bar, so they've probably been friends a while.

"Nope. I'm still here. What about you? Ya' ain't really been around neither."

"I've been busy. I only come in here after work to have a beer or two."

"_Work_? Since when do _you_ work?"

"Like the last five years, stupid."

"Oh. Right. Ya' got some…bullshit labor job, or wha'ever. What's with that?"

"I'm getting married, remember." The guy smiles, real contentedly.

But Gojyo laughs at him, rude, "Pffft. Oh, yeah! Damn, man, you're gonna' have a kid too, aren't'cha. That _sucks_."

The guy doesn't stop smiling. Maybe he's just too happy to care, or maybe he's used to Gojyo acting like a dick to him. "It's not as bad as it sounds. Maybe you should try it some day."

"Yeah, no thanks. Hey, stick around and have a couple beers. Shoot some pool. This's Goku by the way. You ever met Goku? Eh, prol'ly not."

The guy glances at me and gives me a nod.

I try to smile and wave, kinda' lame.

"Anyway, I can't stay here too late." He says. "Ayako's waiting for me."

"Great." Gojyo says flatly. "How's that engaged thing workin' out for ya'?"

"Couldn't be happier."

"Oh sure. Don' take this the wrong way, man, but I bet I could be _five million_ times happier than you, just sittin' on my ass at home, beatin' off ta' some lame porno."

The guy finally frowns a little, glances at me.

I shrug. I dunno' why Gojyo's bein' such a jerk about it. I know he don't like commitment, or whatever, but still. He's being kind of a dick.

He lights a cigarette, like he doesn't even notice what a dick he's being, offers the guy one.

"No thanks. I quit."

"Sure are taking your responsibility seriously, huh, Rong? I remember when ya' were just a shit-faced, little kid with a crappy fake ID."

He shrugs, "We all gotta' grow up some day, yeah?"

Gojyo doesn't answer. He's frowns that certain way he does when something comes along he doesn't like the look of, and then I hear him go, "Tch."

There's a long, awkward silence, and I try to think of a way to get out of it. I still have to find some way to convince him to leave with me.

The guy's just staring at him, like he's waiting for something else. Another smart answer, maybe.

Finally, Gojyo snorts, "What?"

"I was just wondering if you wanna' come over for dinner some time. You've never met Ayako, have you?"

"I dunno'. She lived in this town a long time?"

The guy nods, "Her whole life."

"Hell. I've prob'ly _fucked_ Ayako, Rong-O."

My mouth falls open. I can't believe it.

All the noise around the pool table stops.

Rong's mouth falls open too. His eyes get kinda' wide, then he starts looking angry.

I don't know much about that kinda' stuff, but I know ya' don't say that to somebody. Especially not a guy who's supposed to be your buddy. That's the stuff ya' say when you're trying to start a fight.

Gojyo's just looking back at him, steadily, with that smug, 'I dare you' look he gives Sanzo a lot.

Rong loses it. "What the fuck, Gojyo? Why the fuck would you say that to me?"

"'Cause it's true. I think I've fucked every pretty girl in this town by now, so 'nless Ayako's some ugly skank." He shrugs. "Them's the facts."

"Gojyo." I hiss. But I'm not Hakkai, and I have no idea what to say to him. It's just real messed up to say any of that, and everyone else in the bar knows it, but he's acting like he doesn't care.

"You sonnova' bitch! Don't talk about my fiancée that way! That's the mother of my children!"

Gojyo laughs at him. "Please, Casanova. Don't even act like ya' ain't played the game. I've seen you hook up with all kindsa' nasty leftovers when I took their hot friend home, so either you're marrying some ugly, sloppy seconds-"

"Gojyo." I grab his sleeve, and he jerks away. "What's wrong with ya'?"

"—_or_ I've prob'ly fucked your girlfriend."

Rong ain't too fast, and I see him move, and I could probably stop him, but I don't, 'cause I kinda' think Gojyo deserves it.

He hits him square in the face, knocking him back against the pool table, and the other guys around scramble to get out of the way.

Gojyo recovers quick, 'cause he always does, swings his pool stick at Rong's head, but he's drunk, and he misses. Rong ducks in and busts him again, this time in the guts.

Gojyo doubles over, clutching his stomach and stumbling back, cursing and sputtering.

Then I remember he's hurt already, and I better do something.

Rong's gonna' hit him again. He looks like he wants to kill him, and I can sense it too. He's way pissed.

I step in and grab his arm before he can strike a third time, "Hey, hey!"

Rong tries to wrench away, "Move it, bitch tits!"

I tighten my grip, and he yelps in surprise, then I twist his wrist a little, and I remember that, even if Gojyo was just a total asshole to the guy, he's still my buddy, and my comrade, and I'm not about to let this guy beat him up when he's hurt. For any reason.

I don't wanna' throw down either though, so I say quietly, "C'mon, man. He's drunk."

"I don't give a shit! You don't talk about another man's girl that way! Hear me, Gojyo? That's fucked up!"

A few guys around the room agree, half-heartedly, that it's _way_ messed up.

Rong's still trying to pull away from me, trying to get at Gojyo. He's got some guts, 'cause normally, Gojyo can kill just about anybody.

"He's hurt." I add, sort of desperately, but I don't know why I think that matters to Rong.

"He's about to be dead!"

Gojyo recovers and stands at his full height again; there's a little blood on his lips, and he looks really pissed too now, moves in to stand right in Rong's face. "Let 'im go, Goku."

"No way."

"Go on. I ain't scared of this pussy."

What should I do? I couldn't even get him to go home, and now he wants to fight. How can I stop him? If I let him, he'll either beat the shit outta' Rong, or he'll get the shit kicked out of him.

"I should kill you, Gojyo!" Rong screams.

"I'd like to see you try."

I've had enough. I shove Rong away and step between them. I'm not sure who's gonna' be easiest to reason with, but I haven't been getting anywhere talking sense into Gojyo all day. I wish Hakkai were here. This wouldn't be happening at all if he were around—he never would have let Gojyo say that shit, he woulda' stopped him, and even if he couldn't, he wouldn't have let Rong hit him the way I did.

Finally, I decide Rong's gonna' be easier to talk to, 'cause he's sober. "Please, man?" I ask as nicely as I can. "He doesn't know what he's talkin' about. He's…he's all fucked up."

Rong doesn't look like he cares.

I can only think of one other thing to do.

I straighten up, so I'm as tall as I can be, and I give him a little bit of a glare, which isn't too hard, since I'm so frustrated, "Let it go. He didn't mean it. Right, Gojyo? You're just screwing around."

Gojyo laughs.

"He didn't mean it." I repeat, pleadingly.

I can tell from Rong's face that he don't give a damn if Gojyo meant it or not, he's gonna' take it with him to the day he dies, but he probably doesn't really wanna' deal with both of us. He snorts. "Fuck you, alright, Gojyo? Bao was right sayin' you'd turn into a bitter old man, and then your boyfriend ran off on you, so it ain't my fault."

Gojyo moves so fast, I don't see it coming. He's in front of me, somehow. Rong's on the ground, face pouring blood, writhing and moaning. He stands over him, fists clenched like he's gonna' pound him into the floor, "Yeah?" His voice is dark and cold, "Well, I never liked you, Rong. How's that?"

It's totally quiet. I could probably hear a pin drop. Everybody's scared now—I know Gojyo has kinda' a rough reputation in this town, so even though he's usually a laidback, easygoing guy, they don't wanna' get into it with him.

Rong stares up at him, angry and disbelieving, and kinda' hurt, I think. He wipes blood off his chin, and it looks like he's gonna' start crying.

Gojyo snorts again and kicks him in the side, "Pussy. Get the fuck outta' my bar."

Rong picks himself up, slowly, grabbing onto a pool table for support, and starts to stumble away, totally confused and pissed. "I'll get you." He tells Gojyo, but it sounds pretty empty to me. He probably knows he can never get Gojyo back. Not without getting killed.

In another sec, he's out the door, and Gojyo turns, casually, back to the pool table, "Where were we?"

I grab his arm, and I'm kinda' shaking. I don't know if I feel scared or angry or just nervous, but I wanna' leave, right then, and I can't go without him. "We were gonna' leave, remember?"

"Nah, I don't think that's what we decided, monkey." He answers, cheerfully.

I'm already pulling him out of the bar. I don't care about his tab—the bartender doesn't say nothin' about it either, since he's just staring at us like we're all crazy—and I already paid for dinner, and I just wanna' go home, eat one last meal for the day, and go to bed.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask. "Why'd you start a fight with him?"

"Didn't. He hit me first."

"That stuff ya' said to him, 'bout his girl…that was messed up, Goj. Way, way messed up."

"Wassit?"

"That was so messed up. Why'd ya' say that stuff? I thought he was your friend."

"Ha! I don't have any friends left in this pieca' shit town."

I look at him. I've never heard him say that, or anything like that, ever before.

He's frowning, and his eyes are dark, and I have no idea what to say.

After that, we walk quietly. I don't know why he did what he did, and I don't know what to say, I can't lecture him, like Hakkai would, and tell him how wrong he was, I can't even get him to tell me the reason for it. The only thing I can do is try to drag his butt home.

I wish I could figure out why though. I wish I could get him to tell me something—anything at all.

Eventually, I let go of his arm and walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him, feeling helpless and small, like a kid who can't watch his friends' backs.

Gojyo talks a little as we go along, acting like nothing even happened in the first place, and I pay real close attention to what he's saying, thinking he might accidentally let something slip, but it's all just usual Gojyo crap, complaining about this and that, and teasing me about dumb stuff.

"So, d'ya' like being a teacher?"

I shrug, "I'm not really a teacher."

"But you're teachin' martial arts to kids."

"They ain't really kids…just acolytes."

"Some of 'em are kids, right?"

"I guess my youngest student's like eight, or somethin'."

"Damn. I never thought the monkey would wind up being some great sensei."

"How come?" I look at him.

"I dunno'. You've always been such a brat. It's just weird you got your life all together, and whatever."

"I'm an adult now. I had ta' do _somethin'_ right?"

He's quiet. It's a weird kinda' quiet, like he's bothered, but when I look at him, he doesn't look upset or nothin', he's just glancing around the street, all casual.

"I dunno' though. I ain't gonna' do it forever. Sanzo talked like it'd be a good first step for me."

"A good first step ta' _what_?"

"Not sure." I hook my hands behind my head and look around too. We're getting out of town, and the streets are even quieter now, and it's sorta' chilly out. "Havin' some kinda' life, I guess, maybe."

Gojyo laughs strangely. "Right. That's always nice to have." I figure he's making fun of me, and that kinda' annoys me, 'cause I think I'm doin' really, really good now.

"I don't know what else I woulda' done. Besides goin' ta' India, an' hanging around at the temple all the time, what else have I done? I just want more, Gojyo."

"Heh. Don't we all?"

I don't know what he means by that, and I can't figure out if he's making fun of me anymore, but he still seems bothered.

"Some day, I wanna' see the world, I think. I'd like ta' see the ocean, an' I wanna' go further west, like maybe ta' the continent Hazel came from, and I wanna' go all over an' see all kindsa' stuff. Just not right now, 'cause we traveled so long, and it's kina' nice, havin' stuff be normal, for a little while. I guess the teachin' thing's just somethin' ta' do for now."

"Just killin' time?"

"Mm. I guess so." I smile. "You're gonna' laugh at me, but, I'm not really ready ta' go do somethin' like that without you guys. I don't expect ya' to come, when I go, so until I'm ready, I wanna' hang around here, an' be with you and the others."

Gojyo doesn't laugh like I thought he would, or call me gay or stupid or needy or a wuss. He snorts. "You gotta' live your life, right? We're not always going to be all together, you know. I mean, just look at shit now."

I'm kinda' surprised. He barely ever talks about Hakkai being away, so any time he even gets sorta' close to bringing it up, I don't know how to act. I can't even figure out how he really feels about Hakkai being gone, 'cause he never says.

I remember the day after Hakkai left. Gojyo came up to the temple with some stuff they found in their house while Hakkai was packing and getting rid of things, stuff that belonged to me or Sanzo, or that he was giving us, or whatever.

_He came in, and he wasn't laughing or grinning or teasing, or nothing, but he didn't look sad or angry or sorry either. If anything, I thought he looked tired._

_ "Here." He dumped the crap he'd brought with him on the floor by the door, "This's your guys'. Or you can have it. Or whatever. I dunno' why he didn't bring it up here himself on his way out." There was this pause then, like he was waiting for somebody to explain it, and it was weird, 'cause I was sorta' waiting for the reason too. Finally, Gojyo shook his head and lit a cigarette, grumbled. "Whatever."_

_ Sanzo looked up over his newspaper at him, "So what? Did he leave?"_

_ "'Course he left. Wouldn't he be here, dropping that shit off, if he were still around?"_

_ Sanzo went back to his newspaper, no emotions on his face._

_ I turned to Gojyo, "You okay?"_

_ "Who me? Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"_

_ I didn't know what to say at the time. I didn't understand why he'd even ask that, 'cause I thought the reason was obvious, but I just said, "You guys're really, really close."_

_ "Hmph. Not that close."_

_ "Yes." Sanzo interrupted. "You are."_

_ "Yeah, well, I've got my own life. My identity ain't wrapped up in that guy."_

_ I wasn't convinced though, and I even went ahead and said, "Still…he just left ya' here."_

_ I remember that made him angry, kinda', and he glared at me and snapped, "He didn't just leave me here. I decided not to go with him."_

_ "Why?" Sanzo asked. 'Cause when Sanzo and me heard Hakkai was gonna' go away, we both assumed Gojyo'd go with him. For all the years I knew them, I had always figured Gojyo would follow Hakkai anyplace, 'cause he always had before, and like I said: they were really, really close._

_ "I dunno'. Who cares? I got my own life—I don't need him."_

_ I knew that part was a lie—I didn't believe Gojyo didn't need Hakkai, or that Hakkai didn't need Gojyo—but I didn't call him on it, 'cause, I guess, he musta had some kinda' good reason to lie about it._

_ Then he said it, just the way he did tonight, "Guy's gotta' live his life, right? We're not all gonna' be together all the time."_

Tonight though, about a year later, I still don't understand why he didn't go with him.

I blurt out suddenly, "Can I ask ya' somethin'? Ya'…might get kinda' pissed, but…"

"What is it?"

"Um, I just always kinda' wondered why…?"

Gojyo suddenly stops in the middle of the road, stands there smoking and looking off to the side at something.

I look too.

There's a rundown building standing there. It looks super old, and it's starting to rot, all the windows are boarded up, and the doors too. There's a notice on the door that it's condemned, or something, but even the sign's chipped and wearing out. The whole place is covered in vines and surrounded by weeds up to my knees.

"Um, Goj?"

He moves toward it without warning, throwing his cigarette aside, "This was a nice casino, back in the day."

"A casino? Really?" I look it over again, but I can't tell that it was ever anything. It just smells like rotting, decaying wood to me.

"Sure. I used ta' play there all the time."

I follow him, "What th' heck happened to it?"

"Nn. I dunno'." He loses his balance a sec, steadies himself on the branch of a tree. "I think it was run by a youkai an' his fam'ly. Guess it had ta' shut down when the calamity struck, then they just never came back ta' rebuild it."

We stand side by side, and I think about the way the world changed all over 'cause of the calamity. We stopped the revival, but we all knew, from the beginning, that we couldn't fix everything, and even now, stuff's healing really slow.

"C'mon." Gojyo pounds my shoulder, "Wanna' show ya' somethin', chimpy." He stumbles off through the overgrown bushes and weeds, and disappears around the side of the building.

I go after him, tripping on logs and rocks I can't see through the grass, and it's dark away from the road, with no lights at all. Then I see Gojyo standing ahead of me, his lighter out, holding the flame up to the wall, dusting something away there. I go up to look.

In the dim light of the small, waving flame, I see two names carved deep into the wood. The first says 'Banri'. Right below it, closer to ground level, the second name is almost completely worn away, 'cause the wood is so old and rotten, but I can tell it was Gojyo's name, once.

I glance at him, but he's just staring, with this weird, little smile that looks kinda' sad. He swipes his open hand across Banri's name and mutters, "He always said we were gonna' run this town someday…"

"How come ya' did that?"

He looks up at me, like the question's weird, "Wha? Carved our names here? Hell, just a coupla' delinquent shits, I guess. I was only like seventeen years old."

As I watch him, he takes out a knife, pops it open, and crouches down to fix his name so it's readable again. "There: good as new. Hn. Guess I'm still a delinquent shit.'

He stands up again and puts his knife away, flicks his lighter shut and turns to me. I can barely see his face in the moonlight, but I see him grin, out of nowhere. "Check this out."

Gojyo jumps up suddenly, grabs a window ledge that's right there, about three feet over his head, pulls himself up to stand on it, then starts climbing up, higher and higher.

For the first few seconds, I'm too surprised to say anything, then I yell, "H-hey! What're ya' doin', Kappa?"

"That's a dumb question."

"Cut it out!"

He's still going higher, finding handholds in places where I can't see them, pulling himself up, going from ledge to ledge.

"Gojyo, come back down here!"

Normally, I wouldn't care, but it's a five story building, and he's pretty drunk.

He doesn't listen though; he's on the roof before I know it, and then I can't see him.

"Gojyo!" I hiss.

There's no answer.

"Hey, stupid, come back!"

Then I hear his voice echo through the night, "Whoo! Check it out!"

I run back around to the front of the building, as fast as I can, and then I can see him at the top, standing up there with his arms spread, swaying unsteadily, and I totally expect him to slip and fall.

It freaks me out right away, "Gojyo! Gojyo, come back down!"

"No way, this's too cool, monkey! Lookit the stars!"

"C'mon, man, that's dangerous!"

"Wha'ever, I've done this a million and two times."

"When ya' were like seventeen, right?"

"An' eighteen. An' nineteen. An' twenty. Hell, I think I got 'Kai to climb up here with me once."

"I bet ya' weren't drunk then."

"Eh. Who knows?"

"Would'ja' just come down?"

He ignores me and keeps babbling about the stupid stars, and how great the wind feels, and the view. The idiot.

"Gojyo, c'mon, man, this ain't funny."

He laughs, hysterically, "I can see ev'rything from up here!"

"There's nothin' to see." I call back, not taking my eyes off him for a second. If he falls, maybe I can catch him. I don't know if that'll be good enough. I don't know if I'll be fast enough. I wanna' think it will, and that I am, but I'm feeling sort of scared right now. I've seen him do some dumb shit, but I've never seen him act so crazy. What's his deal?

"Sure—I can see the town, an' the forest, an' the mountain, an' the path, an' the stuff. Ev'rything."

"Whatever. Would'ja just come back down?"

Gojyo laughs that much more, "I'm kinda' high up, huh?"

"You're way, _way_ too high up, Goj." Too high up for being drunk.

He steps forward and stands right on the edge to look down at me with a grin.

My heartbeat starts to race, "What're ya' doin'? Just get down from there!"

"I dunno' how. Uhhh, I might hafta' jump."

"I thought ya' said you did this before."

"Yeah, but we used ta' jump over into that tree ta' get down, an' now the tree's gone. So I might hafta' jump."

"Shut up! That ain't funny, Gojyo." I bark. I'm getting angry now. I don't know what he's doin', I don't know if he means it and actually is gonna' jump, or if he's just messin' with me. I can't tell. It's gotten so hard to read him.

"I dunno'. I don't think I've got the co'rd'nation t' go down the way I came up."

I'm getting angrier. I can't take how stupid he's being, and I try to think of a way to get him down without killing himself. On accident or otherwise. "Gojyo." I say it just as firmly as I can, 'cause I watched for years and noticed that, if Hakkai ever wanted Gojyo to do something he didn't wanna' do, he was just super firm and serious with him. Sometimes, he'd guilt trip him into doing stuff, but I'm not smart enough and I don't have the time.

Anyway, it gets his attention, and he looks me in the eyes. "Nah?"

"Get your butt down here, right now. You're freakin' me out, an' I don't wanna' pick up all the little, shattered pieces of your body if ya' accidentally fall."

He looks me in the eyes for a long, long time, and then he snorts, "Alright, alright. I'm comin'. God damn—fuckin' kid can't even take a joke."

"This ain't a joke, Gojyo, an' it ain't funny. You're being stupid."

"I said I'm comin'. Chill out." He saunters back over to where he climbed up, and disappears. I go back around to watch, holding my breath as he makes his way down, but I don't exhale until he's got both feet on the ground again. He stumbles toward me, looking irritated.

"Thanks." I mumble.

"What's with _you_? Fuck your 'thanks'."

"You're drunk, man. I just didn't want ya' to…" I don't wanna' tell him I was sorta' scared he'd jump off, 'cause I've been tryin' to keep those worries to myself, but for the last few months, he's been so weird, and after what he did the other day…I don't really know where he's at anymore. It's not that I think he's suicidal, but I know people do dumb shit when they're drunk, and I didn't want it to hit him, while he was up there, that maybe stuff would just be better if he jumped. "I didn't want ya' to do anything stupid." I finish at last.

"You thought I was gonna' _jump_?" He demands, sounding outraged.

"You told me you were gonna' jump." I answer, just as calmly as Hakkai probably would. "Was I supposed ta' just not worry about it, or something'?"

"Why the hell would I _jump_?"

"You _said_ you would."

"I was kiddin'."

I look him right in the eyes, "That stuff's not funny ta' me, Gojyo."

He laughs bitterly, "Who dya' think you are, monkey? You think you're _him_ or somethin'?"

Curiously, I watch his face, see the hardness in his eyes, hear the resentment in his voice. "What'dya' mean 'him'?"

"Never mind."

"I don't think I'm Hakkai. I know ya' wish I _was_ Hakkai-"

"I don't _wish_ you were _Hakkai_, Goku."

"Even if I ain't Hakkai, what'm I supposed ta' do? Let ya' do really stupid shit when you're drunk? Like Hakkai's the only one allowed ta' keep you from doing somethin' dumb?"

"Just shut up about it." He snaps, suddenly. "It was justa' joke."

"It was _stupid_."

"Don't lecture me about what's stupid!" He shouts, voice ringing around in the night. "You're the fuckin' _monkey!_ I don't need ta' hear about what's stupid from _you_, ya' damn, dumb-ass, stupid chimp!"

I stare at him. I don't think it's ever hurt so much ta' hear him call me that stuff. I don't know why that is, except that, maybe, it bothers me that he thinks I'm too stupid to look out for him, and that he's kicking dirt in my face when I'm just tryin' to help him.

Maybe it's time to walk out on him. Maybe it's time to scream at him and tell him what a dick he's been lately, and that if he doesn't figure it out soon, he won't have any friends at all. Maybe I should just turn around, walk away, and let him think about what he did and what he said.

_That's not what I should do._

I don't know exactly why Gojyo's been acting like he has, but I know he needs me, and if I walk out on him, I know it'll really be bad for him.

Suddenly, I feel…not _sorry_. I guess, I don't really feel sorry for him, no. I just feel…compassionate. That's the only word I know to describe it. I don't really know what's goin' on with him, but I know he's not happy, and I don't know how to make any of it better, and I don't know when he'll be okay again. I don't know how long it's gonna' take him to come to grips with this and move on, or if he ever will, or if he even wants to. But, even if I ain't the smartest guy, I know that it takes some kinda' sick thoughts to climb up on a building that tall and joke with your friend about jumping off, whether your drunk or not. It takes some kinda' sick thoughts to even kid around about killing yourself. So maybe it's just 'cause he's drunk, an' maybe it was just a joke, but those thoughts started some place, right?

The last thing I want is for him to think I don't care, or that I'm gonna' take off some place too.

I touch his shoulder.

He doesn't look at me, just keeps smoking.

"Ya' scared me." I say quietly.

"Sorry." He chuffs. "Didn't mean to."

"Y'know…Hakkai wasn't the only guy that cares about ya'."

Gojyo sighs, "Goku, damn, dude. It was a _joke_. I was just messin' with ya'. Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out, but I wasn't gonna' _jump_, okay? So calm down, kiddo'."

There he goes again, just blowin' me off, 'cause he still thinks I'm a freakin' kid, just figuring I don't get it—can't get it—that I'm takin' stuff too serious, because I'm naive. I guess maybe he has no idea how much I've been worried about him for a while now. Maybe he's really got no idea how bad I wanna' help him figure this out.

The four of us ain't the guys to say stuff like 'I care about you', but…maybe this time around, with Goj acting so freaked out, it won't hurt ta' say it. It won't hurt him to hear it.

"I know I ain't Hakkai…but…I care about ya' the same way he does."

"Whatever." He snorts. "Don't get all fruity on me over a joke. He knew better than to pull that shit."

"Yeah, but he ain't here. An' he'd prob'ly come back an' kick my ass if I let ya' fall off a building."

Gojyo laughs bitterly, "Ev'rybody thinks they gotta' take care of me all the sudden. I'm doin' just fine."

"I know you're gonna' say that no matter what happens."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think you're as cool as ya' say you are."

"Goku." He almost growls. "For the last time, let it go."

"But-"

"Shut up." He starts to walk.

I follow him after a sec, 'cause I don't know what else to do. How can I help him if he won't even let me in?

Quietly, I wonder if Hakkai knew some special, secret trick to getting Gojyo to talk to him, or if he just understood him so well that he didn't need to get him to talk to him. Maybe Gojyo just told him enough shit for it to help, and Hakkai was smart enough to fill in the rest by himself.

I always got that vibe from them: this unspoken, almost invisible support, where they'd walk together, or even just stand beside each other, and even if they weren't saying anything, it was like they both _knew_, and they both _cared_, and somehow, bein' together like that, with that unspoken understanding and that invisible bond, was just enough. I wasn't dumb enough to think that they didn't ever talk to each other, when no one was payin' attention, or that they didn't tell each other things, if they really felt like it, but I knew they didn't need to tell each other what was goin' on twenty-four-seven. Like my relationship with Sanzo, I guess. It's a sense of knowing somebody else is there—someone you can definitely trust—and that they'll be there no matter what happens, to pull you through.

I wonder how they're doing now that that's gone.

"Where're we goin'?" Goj mumbles after a few minutes, sounding drowsy.

"I'm gonna' take you home." I decide. "You're way drunk."

"Yeah, guess so, huh? Hey, weren't you tryin' t' ask me somethin' earlier?"

I think about it. I guess I was, but with how he's acting, flipping out all off and on like that, I don't know if I should ask what I was going to ask. "Naw. Nevermind."

He doesn't ask again, 'cause he probably knew what I was gonna' ask him about, and he doesn't wanna' hear it. Instead, he turns up the collar of his jacket, takes a drag off his cigarette, then tilts his head back to look up at the sky. "Damn. October's almost over, huh?"

"Guess so. Then your birthday's comin' up. We should do somethin'…like go eat. Or whatever ya' want."

Gojyo frowns. "Hell. You know how _old_ I'm gonna' be, Goku?"

I keep facing forward, "Yeah, 'course I do. Sanzo's already that old, an' he doesn't act like it's a big deal."

"'Cause Sanzo's been actin' like an old man since he was like twelve."

"Yeah, but you still get inta' dumb fist fights an' drink like a psycho an' climb up on five story buildings when you're drunk. I doubt that's gonna' change overnight."

He laughs suddenly and slings his arm around my neck, but there's somethin' in that laugh and in that action that makes me feel like stuff is still just wrong, and I wish like everything I could somehow figure out what it is.

_Too bad Hakkai's not around. He'd figure it out._

"Maybe 'Kai'll come back for your birthday."

"Ha. Why the hell would he do that?"

"Um, maybe 'cause you're his best friend in the world."

"I _used_ to be."

I give him a long, wide-eyed stare, "What're you talkin' about, Kappa? Hakkai still-"

"Don't you know anythin'?" He lets go of me and sorta' glares. "That's what happens when people go away, Goku. They forget'cha', an' they replace you. It don't matter what you were when you were together, it just matters that…" He shakes his head suddenly, drags slowly on his cigarette. "Everything changes."

"Not always. Not every time."

"Feh. What do you know about it?" he grumbles, sounding like he thinks he's the only one who knows anything about getting left behind.

"I know Hakkai ain't your brother."

His face turns confused, "What? Who said anything about _that_ dick?"

"I dunno'. I just think it's dumb ta' assume everyone's always gonna' do the same thing 'cause _one _person did_, one_ time."

Gojyo takes a second to answer. I figure he's gonna' yell at me again, but he just exhales loudly, "Whatever. You're just a stupid kid, and you don't know anything about it."

That makes me mad. Real mad. "You know I ain't."

"Sure you are. You're the monkey, for shit's sake."

"Don't call me that." I say, super calm and easy.

He whips his head around to stare at me, "What?"

"I said, don't call me 'monkey'. I don't want ya' too."

"What's that about? You're the monkey. You've always been the monkey."

"Yeah, but I don't want ya' callin' me that, not if you're gonna' be a dick about it."

I can see from his expression that he has no idea what to do or say, 'cause I've never said it like that to him before. I always used to freak out and call him some name I made up, and then we'd go through our routine. I've never asked him to stop, polite, like that. Again, I feel like it's 'cause I kept growing up and became an adult, and somehow he skipped that step in life.

At last, he just mutters, "The fuck's this world comin' to anyway?"

I don't answer. We're at his house now, and it looks all dark and empty.

Gojyo hesitates, smoking some more, then he looks over and grins big at me, "Well, thanks for walking me home there, Goku-sensei. I'd invite you inside, but I don't want ya' tryin' to get in my pants."

"Ewe!" I yell, just so we don't leave things on a weird note. "You're so gross, Gojyo!"

"Don't pretend you weren't thinking about it."

"I'd never even_ wanna'_ think about it, you perv!"

Gojyo smiles and laughs and looks so normal, I actually think that I might be crazy, and maybe nothing's wrong at all. "Hey, that reminds me. I heard you've been flirting with some chick."

"Uh." I feel my face turn red right away. "Yeah, a little…"

Gojyo snickers and leans against my shoulder, "Are you _finally_ gonna' lose it? I was starting to worry you'd turn out like poor, frustrated, Master Sanzo."

"What?"

He rolls his eyes, "You're still a dip-shit. What's her name, anyway? Where'd'ja' meet her?"

"We're just friends, Gojyo…"

"Oh, _sure_. Tell me about her." He insists, his voice turning kind of soft and gentle in the darkness in the night, and for just a moment, I feel like he's the real Gojyo again, like he's older than me, like maybe he might actually know more, like I can rely on him the way I used to, for the whole first nine years I knew him, then it just slips out, easy, 'cause he's Gojyo, and I trust him so much, even when he's being a dick. "Dai."

He nods, "That's cute. Where'd you meet her?"

"She lives in a cabin near the temple, with her parents an' sisters. I was walkin' through the woods one day an' ran int' her."

Gojyo grins, his mouth a white flash in the night, "A farm girl, Goku? Good for you. Is she pretty?"

I hesitate again. Gojyo's kinda' like a wolf. Sometimes, talking to him about pretty girls…it just is strange. I feel like, if he could, he'd get his hands on every pretty girl in the world, so I dunno' how much I wanna' talk about Dai. "We're just friends."

"I didn't ask that, monkey. What, don't tell me she's ugly."

"No! She's beautiful, but…"

He laughs at me, "You ain't been all the way yet? Damn, kiddo', you ain't getting' any younger."

"She's just a friend." I say one more time, angrily this time. "Butt out."

"Whatever. Just leme' know if ya' need me to tell you what to do or where ta' stick it—I'm sure Sanzo won't be any help."

My face gets hot now, and I shove him off, "I don't wanna' be a perv like you."

"Right, right. Tell me if you change your mind." He's laughing at me all over again, "Anyway, I'm-"

He takes a step toward the door, stumbles and almost falls, but I catch him and hold him up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…" he touches his injured side. "I'm cool."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah. Not too bad." Gojyo straightens up and looks me in the eyes again, "Hey, you better get home, huh? It's past your bed time."

I'm still looking him up and down, worrying about how bad he's hurt and why he hasn't gotten anyone to look at those wounds, but I don't say anything.

He waits a sec, then shrugs, "Good night, kid."

"Be careful, okay?"

"Later."

I watch him go inside, and I know better than to think everything is okay, especially after all the weird stuff that happened tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

_They say it's over, and I'm fine again..._

* * *

**Gojyo**

I'm kinda' hung over in the morning, and my face and stomach hurt a little from where that dumbass, Rong, punched me, but I have stuff to do, so I get up a little after noon, grab a leftover slice of pizza that's been sitting on the counter, in its box, for the last three or four days, and I head out.

It's cloudy as I walk through town, and breezy too, and it's Tuesday, so all the good, honest, hard-working citizens are at their jobs, and no one is around. Ever since I was like fourteen, I've always wondered how anyone could live their life that way, enslaved to some career, or chained to a shit job, working so hard to get basically nowhere. And then, out of the blue, here comes some chick, and she steals your heart, you marry her, have some kids, and that's the end of your life. When it's over, you realize you wasted it, working your ass off. What a way to live.

You'd think there was a better option, somewhere.

I haven't found one.

I walk through the market, for the hell of it. Normally, I like walking through the market, because that's where the hustle and the bustle and the babes are, but lately, I don't really like to, because I'm so over this town, and I'm getting pretty sick of all the people in it. Today, it's okay. The market's kinda' empty on Tuesdays, and I'm pretty bored.

As I'm going along, I think a little about some of the stuff Goku said last night. He was acting really weird about everything, and I couldn't figure out why, exactly. He seemed seriously high-strung, even when he showed up at my house. Hell, even when we were sitting down to eat dinner, he'd just seemed nervous, and he kept giving me weird, long looks, and I had no idea what his deal was. I remember he kept talking about me being hurt, but even then, it just felt like a serious over-reaction. Yeah, I'm kinda' hurt—some of my more serious injuries, like the ones in my leg and side burn as I'm walking—but I've had way worse, and even though, I guess, I could have died out there, just because I was stupid and went alone, the injuries still aren't that bad. Definitely not enough to be throwing fits over, anyway.

So there had to be some other reason the monkey was all worked up, I just have no idea what it could be. I guess it could have to do with what Sanzo was telling me the other day, about how Goku's worried about me, but Sanzo couldn't give me a reason for that, and even if I have some ideas, the way he was worried yesterday was new. Like he thought of something new to worry about, and I don't understand. Nothing has changed since three days ago.

If Goku knew what I'm up to today, he'd _really_ freak out.

Guy's gotta' make a living.

What was that thing he said to me at the bar? I'm not really me? I don't know what that means, but it bothers me, because I haven't really felt like me for a long time now, and I thought I was hiding it okay.

Apparently not.

As I'm going through the market, I hear someone behind me calling my name, and I recognize the voice right away.

"Great." I mutter. What's with me running into people I don't want to see lately?

"Gojyo!" The voice is getting closer.

I keep walking and pretend not to hear. Too bad there's no crowd today, or I could probably lose him.

"Hey, Gojyo! Dammit, have you gone deaf?"

I look for some way to avoid him, but nothing comes to mind, besides just flat running away, and that's stupid.

Right when I'm thinking about turning and facing him, he grabs my arm, pulling me to kind of a rough stop.

"Oh." I look at Ton over my shoulder. He's scowling at me, and he looks about as hung over as I feel. His dark hair is peppered with gray these days, and so is his beard, and he's dressed sloppily, in sweatpants and his bathrobe. As far as I know, during the calamity, Ton traveled around, from village to village, for a while, helping people when and where he could, but he saw a lot of really messed up shit, and he came pretty close to dying more than once, so now his alcoholism is way worse than it used to be. I notice he's carrying a grocery bag full of booze. I grin at him even though I don't want to see him or talk to him. Ton knows me too well, he asks too many questions, and he always says what he's thinking. "Hey there, Ton. How've you been?"

He keeps scowling, "Were you trying to avoid me?"

"What? Naw. I didn't see you."

"I called your name."

"Did you? Oh, my bad, man, I didn't hear you. I was thinking about stuff."

"You? Thinking? It's a miracle." He lets go of my arm, "Well, how the hell are you? I haven't seen you in just about forever."

"Doing good." I smirk. "Great in fact. Just, always busy."

"Well, that's definitely not the word on the street." Ton looks me up and down, "You look awful. What happened to you?"

Here we go with the questions. The last thing I want is for him to start digging around in my life, asking things like 'what happened', 'are you okay' and 'how's Hakkai'. "Same thing that happened to you, I bet—just had a little too much to drink."

"No, I mean your face. It looks like someone tried to knock it in."

"Oh, that's just part of being busy. I had to go up and do some work for Sanzo."

"Work for Sanzo? All alone?"

I lie, "Naw, Goku went with me." Ton's never met Goku or Sanzo, but he did enough patching me and Hakkai up back in the day that he's heard about them plenty of times.

"Hn. Well that's good."  
"Anyway, I gotta' be moving on. Later." I start walking again.

Ton falls into step beside me, "I'm heading this way too, actually, and it's really been a long time since I saw you. I'll walk with you, a ways."

I barely hold back a sigh.

"Where are you off to anyway, Gojyo? It's a little early to be going to the bar."

"I have a business meeting." I mutter.

"Business? What kind of business does a renegade like you do?"

"You know me. Gun's for hire."

Ton gives me a disapproving look, and I think he's going to lecture me, but instead, he suddenly asks, "How's Hakkai these days?" Like I knew he would.

I glance at him, then away, "Um. I dunno'."

"Oh, next you're going to tell me you don't keep in touch, right?" He laughs a little, like it's a joke, but when I don't say anything, he's quiet again.

What the hell business is it of his anyway? I drag uncomfortably on my cigarette and hope that's the last question he asks me.

In a moment, he says, "You _do_ keep in touch with him, don't you?"

I pick a building at random and head toward it, pounding him on the shoulder as I go, "Hey, this is my stop, okay? See you around."

Ton grabs my arm again, and I'm forced to look into his serious gaze, "Gojyo, do you remember what I told you when you first moved into this town?"

He's getting really hardcore on me now, and I don't want to hear it, so I laugh, "What're you talking about? That was so long ago—I have no idea."

"I said you'd do best to stay out of Loki's way, remember?"

"Oh. _That_. Right." I put a new cigarette in my mouth. "I remember. So what?"

"I wasn't kidding, you know; especially these days, I think you'd be better off just keeping away from Loki all together. He's not right in the head."

"Who is?"

"You can play dumb if you want, kiddo', but I've heard about the stupid shit you've been up to, and I know it's not my business if it's true, or why you're doing what you're doing, but if it _is_ true, for whatever reason, I suggest you cut it out. Loki's not somebody you want to fuck with."

I pull out of his grip, "I ain't fucking with Loki, Ton, so chill out."

He doesn't look like he believes me, but he nods, then smiles a little, but he looks so hung over, I kind of expect him to throw up all over his own slippers. "Well. Anyway. Drop by my place on your way home—we need to change those bandages."

"You got it." I turn and start to walk away, into the closest alley, and look back over my shoulder once, but Ton is still standing there, watching me go, so I wave at him, and head into the dark. I take a few turns at random for a while, before turning due south and heading deep into the 'bad part of town'.

It's all rundown and worse than ever. Buildings are falling apart, right and left, because nobody bothers repairing them, I see torn up cats and rats that are even bigger than the cats rooting through garbage cans and running rampant through the backstreets. Hookers are on every corner, but they're ugly as sin, and a lot of them are mutilated somehow, missing ears or eyes or something. Every window I pass is busted out, and there are bums sitting along the side of the road, begging for money or food or booze, some of them are already passed out drunk on the ground. It's quiet here, except for the shouts of some fight, off in the distance, and the hammering sound of breaking glass as someone breaks into somebody else's apartment. It's a nasty place, that's for sure, and I like it even less than I did when I first came down here, as a teenager.

Back in the day though, it was a lively place, full of thugs and gangbangers and street toughs and pickpockets. Now it's just a messed up, little ghost town, because almost everyone who ever lived over here went berserk and ran off, and most of them never came back. Now, most of the people who live over here are outcasts who most people won't talk to or mess with. They can get their drink of choice at the bar, if they can pay for it, but that's about it.

We had a little bit of trouble being accepted when we came back home too, but we were used to not being accepted, and we had never been berserk, so it didn't take a lot of time before things were pretty much back to normal.

Of course, normal for me sort of means not being accepted anyway.

It doesn't take long to find the brothel I'm looking for. It's tall and old and made completely of stone, and every building around it is rundown and condemned and crumbling. It's kind of broken down too, but it survived the chaos, and I'm not sure what it would take to knock it down.

I march straight up to the wooden doors, throwing a cigarette to the ground, just to start another, and I knock, firmly.

A second later, a bored voice calls, "Password."

"Nobody bothered giving me that." I snort.

A couple seconds after that, the door opens, and some guy gestures for me to come in.

The brothel is dark and cold and it smells like the usual nasty shit: sex, sweat, piss, and rotting bodies. It's even grosser than it used to be.

I head downstairs and go through another set of guards before they let me into the basement, where a group of guys are playing cards. There's only eight of them. Back in the day, I'd seen twelve or thirteen guys cram around that table. I don't recognize most of them, because they're all new meat, and all the old meat went bat shit and never came back. That's cool with me though, because I didn't get along with most of the old meat anyway.

Not that I really get along with the new guys either.

One of them comes over to me and growls, "Dammit, you're late! The boss is all pissed off about it." He's the new right hand man, I think.

"Aw, man, we don't want that, do we?"

He grabs my arm, rougher than Ton did, and jerks me over to 'the boss's' room, knocks carefully, opens the door just a crack, and hisses, "Boss? Gojyo's here."

There's a long moment of silence, then a cold, serene voice answers, "Send him in, Roni."

"Yes, Boss." Roni opens the door a little wider, looking at me expectantly.

I stick my hands in my pockets and saunter in with a quick, "Thanks there, pal."

The room is dark like the rest of the brothel, but it's open and clean, and it's got its own mini-bar and a TV set, and a long, black leather, sectional couch. There's a man sitting there, women on both sides of him. He's not very tall, but he's lean, dressed cleanly in a silk shirt, open at the collar, with no tie, pale hair slicked back, and he's smoking a cigarette, casually. I can barely make out his pale, blue eyes in the dull light from the TV, and the long scar that extends from one corner of his mouth, up to his ear.

"Morning, Loki." I say, brightly.

Loki glares at me, out of the corner of his eye, not even slightly turning his head, and in that one look, I can see how much he hates me—more than anyone or anything in the world—and if I didn't know better, I'd expect him to jump up and try and kill me.

That's okay, because I hate him just as much, and if he ever did attack me, _he'd_ be the one going down.

"Gojyo. You're late."

"You know how it is—got caught up on the way, and whatever. Anyway, no big deal, right? The day's still young."

"I don't appreciate tardiness, you know that."

I try to bite back my annoyance, "Yeah, well _you_ know I ain't really part of your gang, so you're gonna' have to deal with it."

He acts like I didn't say anything, "Next time you're late, I'll have the boys take it out of your skin."

"Whatever." I roll my eyes, because I'm so over people like Loki acting like they're tough shit when they're just not.

Finally, he turns his head, slowly, and glares right at me, piercingly, and he looks like a demon out of hell. There's insanity in his eyes, but it's subtle and quiet, just as much as it's overwhelming and destructive. Rumor has it that, during the calamity, Loki went nuts, along with the rest of his gang, and ran off to eat people and be a psycho. When the minus wave was reversed, he's one of the only youkai who came back to this town—one of the only youkai who had the audacity to go back to where he was living in the first place—because it's _his_ town, and he _owns _it, and it's the only thing in the world he's ever been in control of, so he won't let it go. Too bad for this town, Loki came back kind of crazy as shit.

He doesn't scare me though, so I just smile at him. "I'll do better next time."

He snorts. "Sit down."

There isn't a chair for me, so I go, and reluctantly sit down on the couch, next to him and his whores.

We all sit there and watch the TV a minute or two before he says anything, and I'm starting to get impatient and just about to ask what the hell he wants when he finally speaks up.

"So far, this arrangement is working out, don't you think?" He asks, quietly.

I don't answer, because I'm not sure if it is or not.

"I always knew you could be useful, Gojyo, if you got away from that worthless Banri and put your head on straight. It turns out I was right."

He waits a long time for me to say something, so I figure I better answer this time.

"I guess so."

"But, I know how cocky you tend to be, and I advise against it. I'm sure it's easy for you to think you can fuck around and do whatever you want, show up late when I call for you one day, blow me off if it suits you the next, and that's a foolish quality you have." He levels another piercing look on me, "Try to curb that, and watch your step, because your partner isn't around to watch your back anymore."

"Hell, Banri's been gone for a long ass time. I'm-"

"Not that idiot. Your partner."

I chew on my cigarette a little.

"He was a young man with a lot of promise—I would have liked to make an arrangement with him as well, but, I highly doubt he would have accepted, seeing how he was a lad with a great sense of propriety, unlike yourself—and when he was here, everyone in this town knew not to mess with him, because he surely could have killed any one of us. Everyone in this town knew not to mess with _you_, because, in my eyes, the two of you were as brothers, perhaps even closer than blood can bond."

Normally, I'd say something about not needing anyone to watch my back or look after me, but the things he's saying are draining me of my spirit, steadily, and I can almost feel myself sinking down in my seat. I try to suppress a sigh, and don't quite make it.

Loki smiles. "Yes, if he were here, this would never be happening now would it? I could certainly never threaten you in any way if I knew he were still living in this town, because I witnessed many times that he would not have tolerated it. Was I afraid of him? No, I wouldn't go so far as to say that, but I certainly had my share of respect for him, which is much more than I can say about you, my boy."

I shut my eyes for a second, wishing I could block out the stupid things he's saying and how right it all is.

"So watch your step, Gojyo, because useful or not, I still don't like you."

"I don't like you either." I say tiredly.

That gets a laugh out of him. "Anyway, that's enough idle chatter. I need you to do something for me, something you may see as…controversial, but it's something only you can do."

"Havin' trouble satisfying your girls?" I drawl, because he pissed me off, and I'd like to piss him off.

It's no good. Loki goes on like I didn't say anything, "There's a theft operation I'd like to pull. The location is stocked with numerous, priceless items, but it's not the run-of-the-mill bank or museum. I've sent men, but they've been unable to get past the front door, and we've been unable to survey the situation."

"High security, huh?"

"You…could say that. Perhaps it's more accurate to say…it's a place that's always open, so there are always people around to be in the way."

"Not much I can do about that. What makes you think I'd do any better than your clowns?"

"Because. You've been inside before."

I can't even imagine how horrified I must look when I turn to him.

Loki laughs. "Oh, it looks like you know which place I'm talking about."

"I won't." I growl. "No way. Not ever."

"Now, now, don't be too hasty. I'll pay you good money-"

"I don't give a shit. You couldn't pay me to do that."

"You haven't even heard what I'm asking you to do yet."

"It doesn't matter. I don't want anything to do with it."

"Reconnaissance. That's all. No one's asking you to steal anything, just tell me the best way to get in, and where the treasury is located."

"Not happening, Loki. For one thing, a lot of stuff has changed over there, and I don't know my way around very good anymore."

"That shouldn't be a problem. I've heard you're personal friends with upper-level management, so you should be able to go in, easily, and while you're there, just take note of a few things. Like where guards are positioned. What times their shifts change. Where the treasury is located. It doesn't seem like a place that would have security cameras, but if there are any-"

"Look, you're barking up the wrong tree." I practically yell. "I'm _not_ gonna' do that, no matter what you say, so you can forget it!"

Loki frowns, but only a little, "How does four million yen sound?"

I glare at him.

"That's a lot of money, you know. I've heard that you've been down on your luck lately—the gambling scene hasn't been treating you well, or else, you haven't been in it at all, those are the rumors anyway—but four million yen… You could live quite comfortably for the next year or two off of that."

I can't deny that. I don't have a standard income, like somebody with a job does, but four million yen is way, way more than I could ever make in a year, whether I'm gambling or doing Loki's petty bullshit.

His voice softens, turning almost sweet and understanding, so he's really pulling out the stops to convince me to do this for him. I wonder what it is he's after exactly. "I know you've been living low since Hakkai went away, and who could blame you? It must be hard not to have him around for you to rely on and mooch off of anymore. But think of it. With four million yen, you wouldn't have to worry yourself about making money anymore, not for a long, long time. You could commit yourself to drinking and fucking, the way you like to, all the time, and not bother with where your next meal comes from. And imagine it: when he comes to visit, he'll be so impressed that you're doing so well without him."

"How the hell would I ever explain to him where I got four million yen?"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose a stray like you couldn't say a rich uncle left it to you. But, you're rather creative, when you try to be. You've certainly told _me_ some creative tales, back in the day. You should at least consider it, Gojyo. Four million yen is a lot of money to pass up."

"It's a lot of money. Period. Why should I believe you'd actually give me that much money for some simple reconnaissance?"

"It's worth it, that's all."

"Sure." I snort. "You know, Loki, I'm not sure I believe _you_ have four million yen to give me. Where'd you get that kind of cheese?"

"Typically, people shouldn't ask a gang lord where he gets his money—the answer tends to be nasty—but if you really want to know, it just so happens that lately I've been dealing with a very powerful, very _rich_ client."

"Who?"

He sighs, impatiently, "You don't need to know."

"Right, I guess it doesn't matter, 'cause you can't even _pay_ me to recon that place."

"I'll give you some time to sleep on it." He says dismissively. "I can be patient. For a bit."

"The answer's no, and it'll always be no."

Turning to the TV again, Loki grins, wickedly, like he knows something I don't, "We'll see."

I start to tell him, for the last time, that there's no way, but he cuts me off.

"You're all out of allies in this town, my young friend. Do yourself a favor, and finally put yourself on the winning team, and we may see in time that you're not such a dumbass after all."

I stand up, suddenly, "Is this what you called me here for? Can I go?"

"Just one more thing." He snaps his fingers, and one of his men who's been standing in the corner, quiet as death, comes to me, holding out a huge baggie that's thick and fat with off-white powder. "Take this over to Kumotte on your way out of town. There's a man waiting for it there. He's to give you six million yen, exactly. Count it, make sure it's all there. One of my men will be along later to pick that up—if even one yen is missing, I'll kill you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I'm about sick of his bullshit and his wasted threats, so I take the baggie off Lurch and tuck it into my jacket. "I'm getting paid for this though, right?"

Loki nods, impatiently almost, waving me off, "The man in Kumotte has been instructed to pay my delivery boy. Enough questions now, you're already late."

I start to go.

He calls after me, "And remember to watch your step, Gojyo."

Kumotte is a dive bar over on the east side of town. It's a little out of my way, but I'm too broke right now to be picky, and if there's somebody out there who actually has enough money to blow six million yen on drugs, the pay for the 'delivery boy' will probably be pretty choice too. It better be, because I'm fed up with shit for the day, and the stuff Loki said is really bothering me.

Besides, I feel like everyone stares at me as I walk down the street. I feel like they're whispering too, like they _know_ what I'm doing, that I just came from visiting Loki, and I'm carrying H around. Shit, Ton said he knows what I've been up to, and Loki said he's been hearing rumors about me too. I'm surprised I don't see my face on a damn tabloid somewhere, and all this gossip makes me nervous.

By the time I reach Kumotte, I'm ready to drop the drugs, grab my cash, and just go home and crash out. I don't even care that it's barely four o'clock.

I find the guy easy enough. He's sitting way in the back, in a booth where he's not too visible, and he must have a description of me, because when I walk in, he gestures, subtly, for me to go over to him. He's a tall, dark-skinned youkai with eyes that don't ever seem to blink, and a mouth that's really small and quiet, but I can sense a lot of dangerous feelings from him, and I notice the knife in his belt and the track marks up his arm. I don't think he's the buyer though. Just a fellow 'delivery boy'.

_That fucking asshole has a lot of nerve calling me that._

I dump the shit on the table, carelessly. "Here we go. That'll be six mil."

He snags it up, immediately, whips the knife from his belt, and digs into the baggie, just enough to get some on the tip, and then he licks it, hesitates, and nods. A second later, he lays out the money.

I take the time to count it, but it's an even six. This seems like a huge deal to be doing in the middle of broad daylight, but everybody in this bar is probably connected to Loki somehow, and anyway it's not my business. I'll just be glad to get rid of the shit. "Alright, so what about me?"

"What about you?" He echoes, mouth barely seeming to move, and he still hasn't blinked. His eyes look kind of yellow.

"Loki said you were gonna' cover the delivery fee. So where is it?"

"No delivery fee."

"Why not?"

"I was never told to bring one."

"And why's that?"

He shrugs. "I never heard a thing about a delivery fee."

I exhale, sharply, and now I'm really done with bullshit. I stand up and snatch the drugs back from him, shoving the money away in the same instant. "Well, if there's no delivery fee, there's no delivery."

His expression doesn't change, but he does sound bothered. "What, are you nuts?"

"Nope. And I ain't free either."

"Look, man. Nobody told me to bring nothing for the delivery. What am I supposed to tell my boss?"

"I have no idea. Go on back to him and tell him there's a delivery fee, then maybe we can all re-negotiate this thing."

"Yeah, well what about _your_ boss-"

"He ain't my boss."

"He's gonna' be angry, right, if you keepin' his drugs."

"I'm not _keeping_ this crap. And I'm not handing it over to anybody for free, got that? So if your boss wants this shit, you better run back to him, and tell him I charge by the hour."

Obviously, he has no idea what to do, because he just sits there as I walk out of the bar, drugs in hand. Of all the stupid, dumb, fucking shit for somebody, somewhere to pull. I don't care if it's his boss, or if Loki's trying to screw me over—they won't get away with it, and if they come and try to take it out on me, I'll shred every last one of them. It's just that easy.

My bullshit quota is overfull, so I head home.

It's about five when I get there, and there's a letter in my mailbox. There's usually a letter, every couple of weeks. I recognize the handwriting, but I don't open it, because what could it possibly say that I would ever want to read? I just take it inside and toss it onto a pile of letters on my kitchen table, and then I hit the bottle, hard.

I pop open some whiskey, take a slug off the bottle, and then I walk into my room and stash the drugs away for safe-keeping. It's probably not the smartest thing I've ever done, taking off with Loki's drugs, but he really pissed me off today, and I absolutely will not work for free, and so unless someone wants to cover me, nobody's getting anything.

I continue drinking for the next few hours, steadily getting drunker and drunker; I have enough alcohol to be drunk every night for the rest of the year. It's so much easier to keep it around these days.

_…your partner's not around to watch your back anymore…_

"Fuck."

Fuck it all, it's true.

When it gets dark, I turn the TV on, but there's nothing to see. Some talk show, a game show, foreign sports, a cooking show, news, and music videos. The last channel is nothing but static and noise.

I leave it on the music videos, but in a while, I'm so drunk, I can barely tell it apart from the static-noise channel.

I keep drinking until I can hardly walk, and then I start pacing around my house, worrying about the crap Loki said, smoking cigarette after cigarette and flicking them down wherever I feel like it. I find a cockroach in the corner of the kitchen and have a good laugh as I smash the fuck out of it. Then I go outside.

There's a light, October rain falling, and the air is frosty, and I never put my jacket back on, but I go wandering through the woods anyway.

I sigh. "What'm I doin'?" Sanzo says I need to fall apart faster 'cause I'm boring him, but he doesn't realize I'm already in pieces. Goku probably just wants to help, but there's nothing he can do.

_Why did Loki have to say that shit to me? Why did he have to bring any of it up?_

I can't believe he expects me to help him with that.

_Of course he does. Like he said, he's not scared of me. He thinks he can screw around with me, now that Hakkai's not around._

He's wrong though. So wrong,

Yesterday was terrible. Today it feels like my whole life is falling apart.

My birthday's coming up, but I don't think being another year older will give me any extra perspective, or that everything will randomly come together for me. In one month, if I keep doing dumb shit like I'm doing these days, my life might be even more pathetic than it is now.

When you're my age, I know you're supposed to be all grown up, you're supposed to get married and have kids, like Rong, and you're supposed to be trying to work hard to get more out of life, like Goku, and you're supposed to be doing whatever you have to do to better yourself, like _Hakkai…_

_You know you can't do any of that._

I stare through the woods, where I can almost make out the lights of the town, and think, drunkenly, _There's nothin' for me here._

I'm hanging around because everything I know is in this town, but what good does it do me? Honestly, what is it that I know so well? The people or the women or the scene? I don't give a shit about any of that.

_What'd Sanzo say? 'If you can't hack it in the real world, the maybe you shoulda'…'_ I don't know what he was going to say, but I can guess. _Maybe you shoulda' gone with that guy._

Hey, whatever. It's not that. I can hack the real world just fine—I know how the real world works, and I'm familiar with it, and I have a good grasp on how to deal with it—whatever happens, happens, win some-lose some, and you just have to accept it. I've known that for years, and I know it's the best chance anyone's got at hacking the real world.

The stupid thing is, I started expecting more than that after I met the guys. I started expecting more out of life, and out of other people, and out of _me_, because the guys showed me that was okay. They showed me that was possible. But…

_But I didn't expect that guy to just leave, out of nowhere, and I definitely didn't expect to wind up so displaced by it._

In the beginning, I _did_ think I could hack it. I really believed that. Now though…

Now…

He left, and it was a huge, huge reminder of who I am and _what_ I am, and how bleak my existence actually is. With the guys around, I could always hide the things that scared me and made my life seem so hopeless, from myself, and from other people, because the three of them knew and accepted and never said a word about it.

Now I feel really far away from all three of them, and I can't keep hiding my shit.

If I went with that guy, maybe this wouldn't be happening, but I think it still would be.

_Shit._

I'm not even supposed to be thinking about this crap. I'll probably never see his ass again, and I have to accept that, the same way I've been trying to, all year.

Sloshing some whiskey on my shirt, I take another slug off the bottle and sit down against a tree, heavily.

"Well, shit…"

Once the thoughts start, there's no way I can make them stop, and that damn Loki got them started this afternoon.

I'm in a total rut, and I don't know how to get out of it.

Isn't it normal if I don't want to keep living like a teenager when I'm getting so fucking old?

_Four million yen. That really would be nice._

Some things can never change; I know that as long as I am who I am, I will always be stuck where I am, and I know things won't work out, no matter how hard I try to change them, and no matter how much I try not to think about him, and no matter how much I try not to dwell on the fact that he's gone, he _is_ gone, and all I can do is remember that I'm in a rut, and he's not here to slap me out of it.

Fuck…at least if he were around, maybe he could tell me what the hell I should do. Or maybe I wouldn't have lost so much confidence in myself and it wouldn't even matter. Maybe if I didn't feel so alone and so out of place I could figure out what I want out of life, just like he and Goku are.

What do I want?

I have no idea.

It's stupid, I think, staring up at the rain. I fell for it, and that was dumb; I listened to him, and I believed him when he told me we were friends, when he said he wasn't ever going to leave me behind like everyone else had. I was the stupid, clingy twat that let myself believe it was all real, when it's really obvious now that it never was.

_Why would I ever think that _I_ could have something like _that?

Fucking idiot.

Even Goku has his shit together now, with his responsibilities and his farm girl, so he treats me like a kid and probably has every right to, and I'm just a loser, sitting outside, in the rain, at four in the morning.

Stuff wouldn't be so bad if I knew where to go, if I had somewhere to go in the first place, and even if I don't, it wouldn't be so bad if he was still around.

I remember the day he left, like it was just yesterday…

_I never wanted this day to come…_

That was a stupid thought to have—way too emotional and extreme—not the way a tough guy should be thinking, but in the end, I knew it was just too _honest_, coming from a dishonest fuck like me.

I knew it was coming, and I tried to ignore it, tried to lie to myself and pretend it would never happen, that things would be exactly the same, forever. At first, it was easy to act like it was nothing—just a thought some dip shit had one night when he was drinking too much sake—and I could forget about it and laugh it off, like everything else. Even as the idea expanded and was fleshed out, hell, even after it was confirmed to be an actual event, somewhere down the road, it wasn't too hard to say it would never happen, because it was just too damn far away to put any serious thought into it, or to get bent out of shape over it.

And then…

As time went on, when I knew the day was coming, when I knew it wouldn't be too much longer, it got a little harder to act like it would never happen, so I started acting like it didn't matter, making jokes about it, or being flippant about how it would affect me. I knew he could see through it—even if he couldn't, I knew better than to think he would actually believe that's what I thought—but that wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was to hold it away from me, keep it an arm's length, so it wouldn't hurt me. Ever.

Then, I couldn't even do _that_ anymore.

It started to get hard—it was so close, holding it at an arm's length didn't work anymore. I couldn't keep it away from me. I started to feel sad. I started to lie about feeling sad. Maybe I even started to push some things away.

I tried not to get angry about it.

In the beginning, I said it didn't matter. I said 'hey, dude, it's your life, so do what you want'. Later, I said 'why would I resent you? I never thought it would last forever'.

No matter what I said, he always looked at me like he didn't buy what I was saying.

It was true though. It was his life, and if he wanted to go, he could. Resentment? I'm not that petty and selfish.

Even then, I knew why he expected me to resent it, because he knew I hate getting left behind, and because I didn't know how much longer I could take being left behind before it started to make me really bitter and hateful.

But that was my issue, not his, and I wasn't going to let him miss out on living his life, or be miserable over me. Besides, people come and go, and it was time for me to cowboy up and get over it.

Still, being totally honest, not holding back…

The night before he left, we had dinner, and I said to myself, 'this is the last time we're going to have dinner together'. Then we played some cards, and he didn't even let me win, because why should he? It didn't matter if it was the last time we played cards or not—Hakkai doesn't lose at cards. End of story. We hung out and had a few drinks, we talked about everything except tomorrow, and we kept smiling and kidding, and when he finally decided to go to bed, I know he wanted to say something to me. I could see it in his eyes. But I just punched him in the arm, like I did sometimes, and told him goodnight, like it wasn't the last time I was going to say goodnight. Like there'd still be years and years of this bullshitting.

When I went to bed though, I laid there forever and stared at the dark room around me, and thought about everything—so much shit I didn't want to think about—about the way we met, and how he laid right there, in that same bed, for weeks, and how sudden it was, to start feeling something.

I always felt like I started feeling something way before he did, but I'm like that. I get attached if you smile at me right, and smiling at me was the first thing Hakkai ever did. He's more reserved. It probably took him a few months to get past feeling grateful because I saved his life, and starting to actually give a shit just because it was _me._

Either way, we both got there, and there was a point, just a brief moment in reality, when I couldn't look at the guy without realizing I loved him. Probably right after I realized I loved him in the first place. When that feeling mellowed out, it started to be a little more few and far between, and then it was just sometimes, when he did me a serious solid, or when he was nice to me after I'd been an ass all day, or when he almost died fighting the Seiten Taisei. Little things reminded me, just every now and then, that I loved Hakkai. After a while, I didn't even have to tell myself 'it's not like I'm _in love_ with Hakkai. I just love 'im', because that insecurity wasn't important anymore, and loving Hakkai was probably the only fulfilling thing that had ever happened in my life, because my friendship with him was closer and more personal than any relationship I'd ever had with anyone—any girl I'd ever fucked, Goku, Sanzo, Jien, Banri. Anybody. No one had ever mattered like he did. Nobody could get me to do shit I didn't want to do like he could. No one could make me feel as guilty. No one could make me feel as sorry. No one could make me as happy. No one could make me feel as complete. No one could make me feel accepted and real and full like he did.

So when I was laying there, on that last night, staring at the dark, and thinking about the things we'd done, the things we were never going to do again, and the things we'd never _get_ to do at all, even though we'd damn-well planned to do them—fuck life, because no matter how much people say 'carpe diem', the fucked up truth is that there isn't enough time or money or opportunity to live the way you want to, and there isn't enough room to have a real, honest, solid, satisfactory goodbye—I realized, with renewed pain and intensity, how much I didn't want this to be happening.

_I don't want him to go._

The first time I had that thought, it was just a couple days after he told me he was definitely leaving. When he told me he was going, my first reaction was to act like I didn't care, but a couple days later, when the reality started to sink in, I couldn't help it. He was sitting next to me on the stoop, rambling about his garden, and I looked at him, and the thought just drifted through my mind. _I don't want you to go._

Hakkai had smiled at me and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

He'd let it go, because smart ass knew damn well what I was thinking about. He could see it all over my fucking face, and in my eyes, like somebody tattooed it on my forehead, and he knew I wasn't going to say it out loud. Not then. Maybe not ever.

It kept coming back. We went out drinking a month or two later, and I got smashed, just for the sake of being totally hammered on a Saturday night, and he half-dragged me home, like always, and when I tripped on the loose tile in the kitchen and fell on my face, and he leaned down to offer me his hand and pick me up, it was there again.

_Dude. I don't want you to go._

Even drunk as shit, I couldn't let myself say it out loud.

It was there again, just a month ago, when he started getting rid of things and packing. It was there, even when I was dicking around, laughing at him and making jokes and getting in the way. I watched him pack up his books and his knickknacks and his clothes and his tableware that we never used, because it'd get broken if we did, and he laughed about me having to eat stuff off paper plates or cardboard or something, and I laughed too, because it was the truth, and it was kind of funny. But the thought was in my head.

_I really don't want you to leave._

That final night, three-thirty am, with the witching hour halfway over, the moon coming through my window, in the dark and the quiet, unable to sleep, knowing what tomorrow would be, I just waited for the sun to rise so I could get up and face it and get it over with, and all I wanted was to say it out loud, just for the sake of saying it to someone, even if it was only to me.

_Dude. I really, really don't want you to go…_

I'd never ask him to stay, no matter what. I couldn't do that, because it wasn't worth it, and he was going to go, even if I begged him not to, because that's what he wanted. More importantly, I couldn't live with myself if I got him to hang around just for me. There are way more important things for him to be doing with his life. He was all over Kanan's death, and he wanted to move forward, stop killing people, have a real life, and be a normal guy, and there's no room for Gojyo in any of that. So why should I…? Who the fuck did I think I was to get in the way of that?

I didn't have any goals or plans or even half-formed thoughts on what I should do with my life, and I never had, and I would be such a dick to suck Hakkai into my meaningless existence when he had so much in front of him that he'd be good at.

So I wouldn't ask him to stay. I'd just watch him drive away in the morning, and then I'd…

I didn't know what I would do.

Suddenly, it was like I was more lost than ever—I didn't need to look for Jien anymore, I'd done enough traveling to last a lifetime, and I didn't feel like going anywhere. I wasn't any closer to falling in love and settling down than I'd ever been. In a stupid way…my whole existence was wrapped up in what I had. Living with Hakkai, and the journey, and the guys, and the things we did for Sanzo, and the way we all acted together, and the way it all made me feel. That was my life.

And now it felt like it was ending.

Sanzo and Goku would be around. It wasn't like everyone was gone and I was totally alone, but at the same time, it wasn't going to feel right, and I knew it from the beginning. There would be this gap I couldn't fill with anything. Emptiness. A void. This horrible feeling that there's supposed to be someone there, with me, and there isn't. I could already feel it starting. I could feel it as I lay there in bed, watching the sunlight spread across my ceiling, thinking about how, that night, I'd have to make my own pathetic version of dinner, entertain myself, go to bed, and when I woke up in the morning, the house would be empty. It would always be empty, forever, after that night.

Maybe, I thought, I should move. Get a new place or go to a new town, forget the whole thing and try to move on.

Or maybe, I could just drown in it a while, let myself feel how much it really sucks. Let myself experience the horrible, agonizing pain of Hakkai being out there somewhere, and not being with him.

I'd get over it, eventually. It wouldn't hurt forever, just like anything else. Time passes, and then you forget why it even mattered, and you can't remember what it was about someone that made you think they were so great.

Hakkai was more than great though. _I_ thought he was more than great. I'd die for him, without a thought. I mean, honestly, I'd probably die for any of the guys, if they needed me to—even Sanzo, I guess—but dying for Hakkai wouldn't be a random, selfless impulse that grabbed me by the balls on the spot. It would be a voluntary choice I would make, if he was ever in danger and I even just thought dying could save him.

I've always thought that kind of bullshit was pathetic, but I never realized that pathetic bullshit happens to you without your noticing it. No one would ever choose to be that pathetic. I definitely wouldn't.

Then again, it could be that it wasn't pathetic. There have been a lot of times where being friends with Hakkai and giving such a legit shit about him, have made me a stronger, better person than I ever thought I could be. Some days, I guess it made me feel weak or stupid, but usually, knowing he relied on me gave me courage and determination. It took my stubbornness and gave it purpose.

Hakkai gave me purpose, in a way, because he was the only person I ever loved this way. Not sexually. Not half-assed. Not out of desperation to feel something, the way I loved Mom. Not out of obligation and gratitude, the way I loved Jien. Purely and honestly, because of everything he'd ever done, and all the times he'd ever been there. No, not even that. I loved Hakkai because I did. I couldn't even begin to explain why. I could barely grasp the thought, and I didn't want to think I'd ever love someone again that way. In a way, knowing it would hurt like hell when he got in the car and drove away and never came back, made me know it really mattered to me.

_This is the last day_. I thought, getting out of bed.

It was still early—eight or something—and I didn't know if I'd slept or not. I couldn't remember falling asleep or waking up. Today didn't even feel real. The morning seemed like it was part of a dream: the sunlight, the fresh smell in the air, the taste of nicotine on my tongue. All things I'd felt before. Things my brain could make up, if it wanted to, like in a dream.

I didn't think my brain could make up the way I felt though. I didn't even have the words I needed to describe the emotional pain, and I thought that getting punched or torn into or burned by a fleck of embers would almost drag me into reality, because at least I could get my head around those things.

It was quiet in the living room, with a few boxes sitting by the door, filled with what little he decided to keep.

Jeep was roosting up on the back of a chair, in the kitchen, preening and chirping, maybe completely unaware of what was going on. I didn't see Hakkai anywhere.

I made my way over to Jeep, and he looked up at me, whistling a little, and when I reached my hand out to him, he nudged at it. After today, I wasn't going to see him anymore, and that kind of bothered me too. Never going to pet him or play with him or drive him ever again. I wondered if animals miss things like people do.

Maybe it would be cool, just to be a dumb animal, and never have to think about the stupid shit in life that you can't get out of, no matter what.

"Oh, you're awake?"

I turned to face him, and I almost forgot I was supposed to grin at him. It took me a second to remember, and I think he saw my real expression before I finally got the bullshit smile into place. "Heh. Yeah. Guess it's true what they say: the sun really _is_ up this early in the day."

My voice sounded like shit, but I told myself it was because I was tired, and I just woke up.

Hakkai looked a little uncertain, but he smiled back at me, "I made coffee, not breakfast; though, if you like, I can whip something up."

"No, that's cool." I needed to start figuring that shit out by myself anyway.

The smile almost fell off my face when I had that thought.

"Are you sure? It's not as if it's a major inconvenience."

"It's all right. You got a lot to do, huh?"

"Yes…I suppose that's true…"

After that, he started packing up the car, and I helped, for the hell of it. There weren't a lot of boxes, so it didn't take too long, and I wished it could take longer, but I couldn't give up the front. Not just yet. So I made jokes and bitched about everything and acted like it wasn't happening, like I'm packing some other asshole's stuff into his car. Hakkai laughed with me for a little while, but it didn't take long for his mood to mellow out, and in a while, he wasn't talking at all. He wasn't even really looking at me.

I kept babbling away and being an idiot, like I didn't notice, like it didn't matter that it was the last time I was going to see him, and he wasn't saying a fucking word to me.

By nine thirty, the car was packed up. The house looked empty and wrong without all the crap he'd brought into it over the years. It looked even worse than before he came, worse than when I lived there with Banri. Worse than how it looked when we came back from India even. It looked like a gutted, condemned, little shack.

For a split second, I stood in the doorway, staring at the emptiness, and then I grabbed the very last box, tucked it under my arm, and shut the door behind me. I put the box in the back seat, in the same spot where I'd sat, day after day, next to Goku. I could hardly believe that was really over. I could hardly believe I was never going to sit in that car again.

_I can't believe this is really happening._

"That's all of it." I put a cigarette in my mouth.

"Thank-you."

"Tondemo-nai, man. What are friends for?"

Slowly, slowly, he turned to look at me, his expression ultra serious, and I realized how well I know that face: every expression it can possibly make, like the back of my own hand. Somehow, after all those years, he'd become a mirror of myself, a polished piece of glass I could look into when I wanted to see the truth of myself, or when I wanted to see the exact opposite of me, but also, when I wanted to see something truly familiar, and unbelievably important.

His voice was firm, and I knew it too, as well as his face, at least. I knew how much he wanted to make us both believe this is okay. "This will not be the last time we see each other."

Damn. He said it with such conviction, really wanting me to think he actually believed that, like I was going to start believing it too, if he just convinced himself first.

I smiled, reflecting flippancy back at his sincerity, "Ya' think so? Well, guess you know better than me." I hesitated in the middle of saying more, because this weird, little pain was starting to rise up in my chest. I'd never felt it before—I'd always pushed it away any time it tried to show itself and told myself some lie about this day never coming—but I couldn't ignore it anymore, and I knew it was the pain of reality crashing into the fantasy I'd made up and hid behind, obliterating the denial. Strange how much it hurt, but I guess, when I thought about it, it wasn't that weird. I'd been inhaling the same lie over and over for a long time, sincerely believing, for some reason, that Hakkai and me would always live like this, in our twenties, doing dirty work for Sanzo, always together, not just side by side all the time, but as a part of each other.

It sounded gay. If I ever said it out loud, I'd probably turn into a homo on the spot, that's how faggy it was, but in my mind, knowing everything I knew about him, and about me too, it just made sense. Hakkai and me would always be together, like the night and the moon.

Now it turned out that wasn't true.

He drew me out of my thoughts, saying, "I mean it, Gojyo. This isn't goodbye forever." In his voice, I heard that he knew what I knew. Neither of us ever thought we'd get this old, and neither of us ever thought we'd reach this point in our relationship. This point of 'goodbye forever'.

_It snuck up on me too, pal._

I kept grinning, "Hey, don't worry about it. No big deal, you know? I mean, it's not like we're breaking up or getting divorced. You and me ain't _together_, 'Kai, so it's not like you hafta' let me down easy, like I'm gonna' cry myself to sleep tonight, or something."

Hakkai frowned, eyes hard like stones. I knew that irritated look too, but I wasn't expecting the words that came next, "You can never admit when something actually matters, can you? I've always hated that about you."

A sigh escaped me. I didn't let it out on purpose. It wasn't ideal for keeping up the apathetic act. "Yeah. I hate it too."

"For nearly a year now, we've both been aware that I was planning to leave, and it's been all right, in its own way, not to say a word about it—I don't expect a drawn out, tearful goodbye—I just…I wish you could be honest with me."

I shrugged, "What should I say?"

"I don't know."

"I don't either."

"I suppose I can't help but think you're pretending I'm going to change my mind at the last minute."

"Oh, you're not?" I laughed, "Man, I shoulda' got you a going away present after all, huh?"

He glared, "Gojyo."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes, "I don't know, Hakkai. Just…goodbye, I guess." I stuck my hand out, like an idiot. Like I didn't want to hug the shit out of him and never let go.

Hakkai didn't take it.

I raised my eyebrow at him.

He was frowning, but as well as I knew his face, I didn't know that expression—it was close to guilt, slightly like sadness, but it wasn't either.

"You gonna' leave me hanging?"

"I'm going to miss you."

For some reason, those words were like the first drop of rain in a monsoon. I couldn't keep up the front when he said that. I couldn't keep pretending. They were the final piece of reality, hitting me in the face like a brick.

Slowly, I lowered my hand. I couldn't even smile anymore. I thought I was trying really, really hard to smile, because that's what I do, when I can't do anything else. I just grin and laugh and make a joke and pretend I don't notice what's happening. But this hurts way too fucking much, and the smile was turning into a grimace.

"Don't say that to me, man." It came out automatically.

"Why? Can you not handle the truth? Can you honestly not deal with the fact that I'm not coming back, and that all of this is over? Is it really better to just pretend it's not happening? What should I say? I'm going on vacation, I'll be back in a few days? When a few days are over, shall I write a letter and say I'm staying away longer than I thought? When it's been a few months, should I send an anonymous message that says 'Cho Hakkai was killed in an accident while on vacation'? How long do you want to pretend I'm not leaving?"

"Forever." I shrugged.

That just made him angry. The frown turned aggressive, his eyes got darker. That was the only difference between frustration and anger on his face. "I am leaving, Gojyo. And I'm not coming back. And I'm going to miss you like hell."

He might as well have taken an iron pipe to a sheet of sugar glass, and he knew it.

I snapped.

"So why the hell you going? You're gonna' miss me so fucking much, what the hell are you leaving for?"

"We can't stay this way for the rest of our lives, Gojyo. We're not teenagers anymore, and this lifestyle doesn't suit what I want."

"I know that." I growled. "I don't need you to tell me that."

"Well, are you angry?"

"Angry…? No. I'm not asking you to stay. I'm gonna' keep living this way til the day I die, and I don't expect you to do it with me anymore than you expect me to go with you."

"Well then?"

"Well then what? What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever it is you want to say."

"Stop it. Don't treat me like some kid, Hakkai."

"I'm not. I'm treating you like you're Gojyo. Inept, immature Gojyo who _still_ can't tell me what he really thinks."

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"Whoever told you that?"

"No one. I just know. No matter what I say, you're still going, so what difference does it make?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose I just don't want you to regret not telling me the truth."

"Fuck." I leaned back against the car and took a harsh drag off my cigarette. "Let's not get into it, okay? I don't wanna'…talk about it."

He shook his head at me a little, but it was with that 'I'm not surprised' expression, and then, suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders, a little harshly, and looked me in the eyes, "Someday, you'll realize you're worth more than you allow yourself to be, and whether you give it all up or not, you're going to realize you could have come with me today, and everything would have been fine. Maybe that's years away, or maybe it will be tomorrow—with you, I wouldn't be surprised in either case—but regardless, when that happens, come and find me. I'll be happy to see you."

I looked back at him, not saying anything. It's not that I didn't believe him, it's just that…

"Whether or not you can be honest with me, the way I've felt, for as long as I've known you, has never changed, and it's never going to."

"Sure. You'll meet some other dick to make breakfast for, or you'll marry some babe, and then it really won't matter."

"If by 'it' you mean the relationship I have with my best friend…well, I'd really like to punch you for that, Goj. As it is, I don't even have the strength to explain to you why that's so absurd, so I'll refrain, but maybe when I'm gone, you'll figure it out on your own."

"Who knows?"

We looked at each other for a moment, and I couldn't think of anything else to say that wasn't glib enough to piss him off, and wasn't so serious it'd kill me to say it.

He finally let go of me sighing. "Honestly. What am I going to do without you?"

"What I've always said you'd do without me—be really, really bored."

"I suppose I am." He took a step back, looking me up and down, "You…concern me."

"Why? I'm gonna' be cool."

"I'm not sure."

"Don't worry about me. Seriously."

Hakkai sighed again, "I'll try not to. Well, at any rate, if there's really nothing further to be said, I suppose I may as well be going. Goodbye."

It woke me up, like it was meant to, and I reached out and grabbed him, one last time, hooking my arm around his neck, tight, just for a second, muttered. "Right. 'Kay. Bye, 'Kai."

And even in that moment, that final chance to say all the things I wanted to tell him, I couldn't say it, but it was screaming on in my head, _I don't want you to leave me behind!_

Everything happened really fast after that. I barely remember if he hugged me back or not, or for how long, but I think that was the last thing either of us said, and then he got in his car, smiled sadly at me, and I watched him drive away, stared after him until his car was out of sight and out of earshot, and then I went slowly back to the front steps, sat down there. I was there a long, long time, and every now and then, I thought I heard his engine in the distance, coming back, or that I'd see him come up over the hill, that he'd tell me it was all a mistake, or that he'd changed his mind, but I always knew better. I knew he was really gone, and that he was never coming back this time.

I wake up sitting outside, under a tree, a good hundred yards from my house, soaked and shivering, without a coat, and the sun's starting to rise, the sky pale but clear, and all the rain is gone, but I don't feel better.

With a moan, I heave myself to my feet, head back to the house. I can barely stumble along. The bottle of whiskey I'm clutching only has a swallow or two left in it, but I can't even think about drinking it.

Dizziness hits me, and then nausea too; I barely keep from falling on my face, cling to a tree as I hunch over and throw up. There's nothing in my stomach, other than alcohol, since all I ate yesterday was that slice of leftover pizza.

"D-dammit…"

_Come find me. Yeah right._

I wipe my mouth and keep stumbling toward home. I fall down a couple times, but I get up again and keep walking. Nobody's gonna' drag my ass to bed these days, so I have to do it myself.

…_This is not goodbye forever…_

If only.

Inside, I sling the bottle across the room without a thought, and it shatters against the wall, glass and whiskey spraying everywhere. Raking my fingers back through my hair, I scream.

I'm so angry. I don't know why I'm so angry. It's everything: being left behind, getting stuck, being so stupid, going nowhere, staying in this town, not understanding, not paying attention, ripping people off, taking advantage of my friends. Everything. What an asshole. What an absolute dick.

Here I thought I was doing so much better. Yeah right. I should have known my life would end up this way—all lonely and fucked up and hopeless.

I stumble into the bathroom and look in the mirror a while and think about it all. Think about how pissed off I am and how pathetic I'm being. I barely even recognize myself. I can't even believe how far I've fallen. I wish someone would just come and beat the living shit out of me and tell me to wake up, but no. The guy who's supposed to do that walked out on me, like it was nothing, and I can't even blame him, really, because hell, I'm a useless, good-for-nothing fuck up who steals shit and cheats at cards for a living. Why would anyone who shows even the tiniest bit of promise want to hang out with me?

Angrily, I punch the mirror. It shatters. Glass slices open a couple of my knuckles and the skin along the outside of my little finger, but I don't care.

I stomp back to the couch, tripping all over my own two goddamn feet the whole way. I punch the walls a few times as I go, until my knuckles are aching and there's blood smeared everywhere.

"Asshole. Gojyo—you asshole."

I wish that guy was here to tell me to calm the fuck down.

_I don't need him._

_ Need. Want. Those are two really different things._

I don't want to believe everyone was right, that I can't ever be more, that I can't take care of myself, that I can't have a good life. It's starting to look like that's true though.

I throw myself down on the couch and close my eyes, trying to get the spinning to stop, trying to block out the pain in my fist, trying to forget about the things that have me so pissed off to begin with.

_It doesn't matter._ I tell myself.

I say it out loud a while, just to calm myself down, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter…"

_He's not coming back, and that's all that matters._

I lose my shit again and throw up over the side of the couch.

"Gross."

Oh well. I'll clean it up tomorrow. I won't get this drunk tomorrow night. Today was really fucked up, after everything Loki said, and the shit it made me think of, and the fact that I didn't get paid.

_Oh yeah. The drugs. Gotta' do something about that…_

Tomorrow. Tomorrow won't be this bad.

That guy isn't coming back tomorrow either though, and that's okay. Tomorrow, I can go back to acting like it doesn't matter that everything is so fucked up.

I don't need him to come back anyway. I don't need him to…I don't…

With a moan, I turn onto my back and stare up at the blank ceiling, feeling the heaviness in my chest, like there's a chunk of lead sitting on my heart, and I can barely take it.

In a minute, I murmur out loud, because even after a year has gone by, I still can't believe he's not here with me. "Hey, Hakkai?"

I can almost hear him telling me to lay on my side so I won't drown in my own puke while I'm asleep, but that's just a memory.

I sigh, deeply, closing my eyes.

"I fuckin' miss you."

There's a loud, heavy pounding somewhere. For a second, I think it's inside my head, and then, I'm not sure. It seems like it's coming from outside.

I sit up with a loud gasp, hair hanging in my face, breath ragged. My mouth tastes like I've been giving rim jobs all night, I have a half-smoked cigarette in my hand, my head feels like it's about to implode, and my eyes are aching. My hands hurt.

"What the…?"

Everything's quiet for a second, and then the pounding comes back, a little louder this time, and I realize somebody's at my door, and they're knocking too loud and too aggressively for it to be Goku. Maybe if I don't answer, they'll go away, so I wait.

Time passes, and then the knocking comes back. Whoever it is, they're persistent.

Probably some of Loki's boys, here to pick up the six million I was supposed to get yesterday.

Whoever it is, they're not going away, so I finally roll to my feet, groaning, stare hard at the clock. It's not even eleven yet. Damn. Who the hell is at my door at ten-forty-five in the morning? I thought everyone knew better than to bother me before noon. I've only been asleep for four hours, or something. If that.

The knocking keeps going as I stagger over to the door, feeling incredibly sick and still dizzy and super tired. I'm wet and cold, so I grab my hoodie off the floor as I go and pull it on. My whole face and head are throbbing like I got in a nasty bar fight. Hopefully, whoever's out there isn't important, because I'd like to lose my shit and scream at them.

I'm pretty sure it's Loki's guys, and that's probably bad news, but I don't care. I can handle it.

I pause at the door, rubbing the wound in my side. It's kind of agitated today—I guess I didn't go get Ton to change the bandages like he told me to. Maybe the stitches are getting infected.

There's another loud knock, and suddenly, I don't give a shit who it is. I'm going to scream at them, no matter what they want.

I throw the door open, cutting off the latest interval of knocking, "Yeah, yeah." I squint at the sun, wincing, "I told you assholes I don't do mornings, so what'dya'…"

I stop. Stare.

He's staring back at me, eyes a little wide, mouth cocked open, like he was planning to say something, arm still raised to knock again.

That guy.

"Gojyo?"

I'm gawking at him like I haven't seen him in forever.

That fucking guy.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost."

He smiles, uncertainly.

That goddamn guy.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, it's you."

"Yes…I suppose it is."

I stare at him a little longer. His hair's all neat, his clothes are clean, Jeep's riding on his shoulder, there's a suitcase in his hand, and it looks like he got new glasses or some shit, but it's him. It's undeniably, undoubtedly, most definitely him.

"Holy shit. Sonnova' bitch. I wasn't expecting you."

And I'm a fucking mess, which is great. There's blood and puke and booze all over my clothes, and my face and my hair, plus I'm beat up and bandaged together like a rag doll.

"Yes. I'm getting that impression."

Something kicks in, like somebody pushing a button somewhere in my brain, and the grin slides into place, grows and brightens, spreading through me. It's probably the most genuine smile I've made in the last five or six months.

He smiles back, looking a little less uncertain now, "Well, hello at any rate. Long time no see."

"Heh." I throw my unlit cigarette down. "Hell! C'mere, man." I grab the front of his shirt and drag him into a hug, half-leaning on him, because I still feel sick and dizzy and drunk. "You sneaky bastard, coming here without warning me. How the hell've you been? What brings you back here? Don't tell me they kicked you out."

Hakkai laughs and braces himself under my weight, pounds me on the back, lightly, "No, no, of course not. Didn't you get my letter? It should have arrived at some point in the last day or two."

I'm too happy to care about whatever he's talking about. I hug him around the neck and ruffle his hair. "Dude, I can't believe you just showed up here like this."

"Well, I explained in my letter that I'd be coming, but I take it you didn't receive it."

I just laugh and lean into him, heavily. I feel like I could fall down.

Hakkai holds me up. "It's early to be drinking, isn't it?"

"Who knows?"

"You seem ridiculously intoxicated for it being ten-to-eleven."

"Naw, I'm just fuckin' happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you too, Gojyo." He says softly. "So why don't you invite me inside, and I'll make us some coffee?"

Laughing still, I let go and stand back, get out a cigarette to smoke. Damn. And I was just starting to think he'd never come back.


	4. Chapter 4

**This is one of my favorite chapters. It's also one of the happiest in the fic…**

* * *

_I am Aware now…_

**Hakkai**

He doesn't let me in, and in a way, it's beginning to feel as if he's not really hearing what I'm saying, but he is drunk, so I don't hold it against him. Besides, I don't mind at all. Granted, I didn't expect to find him drunk like this in the morning—though I didn't exactly expect him to be prepared for my arrival either—but no matter. He's Gojyo. And that's what matters to me.

Gojyo keeps grinning and slides down to sit on the step, blowing a stack of smoke as he does so, "Man, I'm surprised as fuck to see you."

I stay standing, holding onto my suitcase tightly. I've been driving for more than twelve hours straight, and I want to go inside and sit down and have a cup of coffee and enjoy a nice conversation, so we can talk a moment here, but in a bit, I'm going to ask him again to take me inside. "Yes, I've noticed that, though I'm not sure why. I did write and tell you I was coming."

He doesn't respond to that, so I have no idea if the letter never made it to him, or if something else happened, but in any case, he doesn't appear to have an excuse to give me.

I look him over carefully, though I'm somewhat reluctant to do so. In short, he doesn't look well. His hair is disheveled, pulled back into a messy ponytail that's falling loose, and it looks a bit greasy and tangled, as if he hasn't showered in several days, and hasn't bothered to brush his hair. His face and knuckles are bruised, lips busted and dry, his right hand lacerated, with freshly congealing blood caked there, and if I had to guess, he hasn't changed his shirt in days. It's spattered with mud, blood, alcohol and vomit. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he hasn't slept well, and he's tired, his expression rather bleary with exhaustion. Even though he's smiling, there's something decidedly wrong about it. It looks _almost_ legitimate, in that the mouth is fixed in the proper, cocky position, but it's a bit crooked, showing me that it's half-hearted, and his eyes are dull. It looks as if he doesn't think he has much to smile about. His arm is wrapped with dirty, stained bandages.

All of it makes me want to immediately ask what's wrong and if he's okay, because I'm honestly quite alarmed, and I want to know why he looks as if he's been beat up, and why he's so filthy and out of sorts.

Instead, I smile back, because generally, such blunt concern doesn't get one too far with Sha Gojyo. If there's any way to make him pull back, it's to ask pressing, sincere, personal questions. Better to tease him about it, and if he wants to tell me what the problem is, he will. If not, I may have to work at it, but regardless, I will get to the bottom of it.

"Well, I'm sure that if you had known, you would have been better prepared to greet me. Being caught entirely off guard surely accounts for your state of disarray."

If he knows what I mean, he doesn't say so, just laughs, coughs, somewhat raggedly, and takes a drag off his cigarette.

"Or could it be that you're starting a new trend? Tell me, what do you call this look of yours?"

"Hung over."

I barely stop myself from blurting out that it looks a bit more like 'deep depression', and then I nod, knowingly, "I see. Well, if you invite me inside, I'll make you coffee and some breakfast, and perhaps that will help, with the hangover, in any case, though I doubt there's much I can do to attend to your neglect of hygiene."

Grinning, Gojyo shakes his head, "Damn, you ain't changed."

"Well, no, of course not. Was I supposed to have?"

"Sure, a little. I shoulda' known you'd come back naggier than ever." He laughs.

"Oh, I don't know that that's what happened, precisely." I say, very patiently. "To me, it looks as if you're trying to get the less favorable aspect of my attention."

"Whoo. I musta' hit rock bottom without noticing it if I'm going out of my way to _try_ to get you to lecture me."

I tilt my head at him. "Hm. One would think that he'd notice if he hit rock bottom."

Gojyo leans back against the door with a vague sigh, "I don't think having a hang over is anywhere close to rock bottom, Hakkai."

"No, I suppose you're quite right in that. Excuse me. Aren't you ever going to invite me inside?"

He hesitates, then scrapes the butt of his cigarette on the step, leaving a long streak of black and orange, stands up, "Yeah, sure. I was gonna', I just didn't think about it. I was diggin' the fresh air."

"That's understandable, given your wretched condition."

"Hey now." He slings his arm around my neck, smiling all the more, and I can almost guess how long it's been since he bathed, judging by the smell of him, but I put my arm around his shoulders and tilt my head against his. "You're getting kinda' nasty, 'Kai. That was almost rude, y'know."

"Do you think so? Forgive me, I didn't realize you'd gotten to be so delicate in my absence." I wait for him to open the door, but he doesn't, and at last, I step forward and swing it open myself.

As soon as I'm inside, I can see why he wasn't eager to let me in.

The apartment is in an appalling state of disorder—definitely worse than I've ever seen it. The kitchen has been swallowed into a mound of trash and papers and dishes and empty liquor bottles and cigarette butts. The table is hidden under mail and playing cards, stacks of empty plates, beer cans, empty cigarette packs, and a couple of pizza boxes. I notice envelopes with my own handwriting on the front—my letters, all unopened. Some have been there for months, but my most recent one is on top. There's a lady's shoe under the table.

The kitchen sink is so full of dishes, it's no longer functional. There are three bags of garbage sitting in the corner, overflowing. I have to unearth the coffee pot from more trash, and debris. When I look for the sugar and coffee grounds, I see that the cupboard is totally empty. There's a box of crackers, some unopened wasabi, a tin of coffee, sugar, salt, a few other dry condiments, and a few cans of food. None of it looks like it's been touched in a while.

Out of pure curiosity, I glance in the fridge, and a wave of odors hits me like a physical punch in the face. I smell something rancid, as if a small animal died in there months ago and was never cleaned out. There's precious little food there as well. Milk that expired in August. Leftover pizza. Bread that's going moldy. And rows and rows of liquor bottles: beer, sake, bourbon—I feel as if I could name any alcohol in the world and find it present in Gojyo's refrigerator. Something red and sticky is pooled at the bottom of the fridge. Sweet and sour sauce, perhaps?

"We'll have to do without cream." I murmur.

The floor is atrocious. It hasn't been mopped—or swept, I suspect—in months and months and months. Maybe he's never swept or mopped it since the day I left.

In the living room, things look just as bad, if not worse. I see everything from more empty pizza boxes to dirty clothes. Jackets are stewn across the back of the couch, where it appears he's been sleeping, since there's a pillow and a tattered blanket. I see more alcohol bottles, some still with liquid in them, but most of them are empty, candy wrappers, cigarette butts, empty chip bags, more pizza boxes, glasses and cans that are being used for the disposal of cigarette butts, and a pink pair of lacy panties that some hooker obviously left behind. The coffee table we used to have is nowhere to be seen, so everything is strewn all across the floor in disorganized heaps. Aside from arbitrary garbage, there's precious little in the living room. It's stripped—no furniture, no personal items, no decorations—the pornography hanging crookedly on the far wall doesn't count—no personal touch whatsoever. The carpet needs to be vacuumed, and I would even go so far as to shampoo it, if I were him. There's a mysterious stain in the middle of the floor, and it seems to change colors every time I look at it, from puke green to sickly purple, to a very unflattering brown. It looks as if someone threw up near the couch, recently.

Everything in sight needs to be dusted, the curtains are all drawn, and the windows that don't have curtains have blankets hanging over them, giving the house a dark, dismal appearance, and it's as if he's living in an asylum, bare and untouched; the whole place reeks of garbage, smoke, booze, vomit and rotten food.

I stare at the place for the longest time, not sure what to say, part of me wishing there were some way to avoid saying anything at all, and yet that seems somewhat impossible, to simply walk in, set my suitcase down, and start making breakfast without commenting on how awful the place looks. I mean, naturally I expected some mess, because I know my roommate's cleaning habits—or lack thereof—very well, but this is much, much worse than I ever could have imagined. There are blankets covering the windows, for heaven's sake.

Gojyo doesn't say anything either. He's just smoking, as if nothing in the world is wrong. He looks around too, then grins at me, "Sorry it ain't five star."

Several moments pass, and once or twice, I attempt to stammer out _something_, even if it is just nonsense, but nothing comes through my lips that's even slightly worth uttering.

He raises his eyebrows at me, "Somethin' the matter?"

The house looks almost as bad as he does. How do I tell him that? How do I ask him what the problem is without letting my alarm take over?

Finally, I meet his gaze, "It looks terrible."

Gojyo shrugs, "Yeah, you know how it is… Cleaning." He coughs roughly into the sleeve of his sweatshirt, scrapes the hair out of his face and then grins again. "Guess it's pretty bad, huh?"

"_Bad_? It's out of control."

"Is it?" He glances around, "I didn't really notice…"

"How could you not? How could you wake up every morning in this pig sty and not notice?"

"Hm."

"_Hm_?"

"I dunno' dude. My bad."

"Never mind." I sigh. "There's no help for it now."

"Right?" Gojyo smiles at me, but again I notice how wrong it looks. How fake. His behavior has been so natural and careless so far, and yet, it just doesn't match up with that haunted expression, and I can't help but wonder what it is exactly that's gone wrong since I went away.

I touch the bandages on his arm, lightly, "What happened here?"

"Oh that. Just somethin' dumb."

"Those need to be changed, you know."

"Do they? I guess."

Frankly, I'd like to tend to them myself, at once, but first things first. The house is far too messy to be used for any sort of medical operation, regardless of how small.

I smile at him and jerk my head toward the kitchen, "Come here and sit down. You look miserable."

Slowly, he steps past me, looking over his shoulder multiple times as he goes to sit down at the only available chair at the table.

I watch him a moment longer, wondering if I should comment on his wretched condition, but in the end, it's probably best if I don't, so I set Jeep aside, atop a chair, where he'll be safe, and start brewing the coffee. While it's going, I roll up my sleeves to begin the arduous task of cleaning the dishes.

Gojyo practically jumps up, "Woah, woah, woah. Dude, what're you doing?"

"The dishes."

"No, no. No way—you're not coming in here, after traveling all day and night, and washing my disgusting dishes. Not happening." He practically pushes me out of the way to take over.

I watch with vague concern, because he still looks as if he might pass out at any given second. "Now, now." I laugh, "Don't get ahead of yourself—there's plenty to do around here, so you'll get to clean to your heart's content, in a moment, when you're a bit more sober, but until then, please, just sit down and try to get yourself together, Gojyo."

He scowls at me. "Yeah, but…it's not cool."

I push him back into his chair, careful not to knock him down. "It's fine."

Gojyo has nothing more to say, but he keeps watching me, chewing on his cigarette, as I continue with the dishes.

Forty minutes later, most of them are drying on the rack, I've collected and taken out the garbage, and he has coffee and is looking a bit more composed. The Gojyo who opened the door this morning looked almost deranged.

"Who were you expecting?" I ask, beginning to wipe down the counters.

"What?"

"When you opened the door, you acted as if you expected to see someone, but it certainly wasn't me. Who was it?"

"Oh. Nobody. Just some guys I know. Hey, how long're you here for?"

"I haven't decided yet. I have at least a week off, so I suppose I was intending to stay here for most of it, that is, if that's all right with you." I turn to smile at him again.

"Yeah, man." He answers softly, "Whatever you want." There's something melancholy in that tone that fills my heart with a swift pang of earnest compassion and what could nearly be called guilt, because I know perfectly well that he was uncomfortable with my departure and that he likely hasn't come to terms with it yet, even now. I can only hope that doesn't have to do with the condition of the house, or worse still, with _his_ condition.

When the floor is swept and mopped, the kitchen is looking much, much better, so I take my suitcase and walk to the back of the house, where both bedroom doors are shut, which I find odd. When I open the door to my old room, it's untouched, but of course, my bed is gone, and there's nothing but a few boxes he clearly hasn't deemed it necessary to look through. I had nearly forgotten that my room likely wouldn't be suitable for sleeping in.

"I guess you can stay in my room." Gojyo calls from the kitchen.

I'm tentative about that, but I take a look anyway, and I find that it's not as bad as it could be. Of course, it's cluttered and messy and disorganized. The curtains there are drawn as well, there's a bra hanging from the light fixture, and, the strangest thing, the bed has been stripped of all bedding, sheets, pillows, etc. and now stands utterly bare.

Sighing, I set my suitcase down and venture across the hall, into the bathroom, just to see what the damage there is like, and to wash my face, since I have been driving a long time, and it would be nice to freshen up.

Like everything else, the bathroom is filthy: the bath and shower are slimy with mildew, the floor desperately needs attention, and I can barely look at the toilet, seeing how it's spattered with everything from vomit to urine. Frustratingly enough, there's not any sort of towel hanging off the towel rack, however, there _are _piles of clothes and garbage, like everywhere else in the house. In addition, the mirror is broken, the sink is full of glass, and there are splotches of blood, half-congealed, on the porcelain countertop. The sight disturbs me.

_What is going on here_?

Back in the kitchen, Gojyo is staring out into space, and I don't like the expression on his face; again, I can't help but notice how wrong it is, how far away and dark, and in a word, unhappy.

"Why have you been sleeping on the couch rather than in your room?"

He doesn't answer. Doesn't move. He's just staring off, distantly, like he has no idea I'm speaking.

"Gojyo." I touch his shoulder, and he jolts back to reality with a jerk.

"Um." He tucks hair behind his ear, "What?"

"You've been sleeping on the couch, I see. Why is that?"

"Oh, Uh. I dunno'. Um, I guess my bed got messed up a little bit ago and I just never…fixed it."

I'm not sure I want to know how his bed got so 'messed up' that he took all the bedding away and never washed them and brought them back. I let it go and say, "Let me see your arm."

"Naw, that's okay." His voice is hasty. "Hey, you don't have to come back here and clean and all that shit. This is kinda' your vacation, right? You can chill out."

I don't want to tell him I didn't come here expecting to have a vacation, so I just listen to his voice as he goes on protesting and making up excuses. It's been so long since I've been near him, months and months since I heard that voice and its nonsensical, flimsy rationalizations, or watched the way he rubs the back of his neck and pushes hair out of his eyes and tries to smile when he doesn't want to. I watch him light his cigarette with a shaky hand and cough into his sleeve before he even takes a drag. It's so familiar, I can't believe I ever left, and suddenly, I can't do anything except sit down next to him and listen to those ridiculous excuses, with all the indulgence of a parent listening to their teenager try to justify his reasoning for why it's not his fault the car was destroyed. Of course, Gojyo's twenty-nine, but he still acts that way, and I'm not shocked. I came back here expecting him to act that way. Of course, what in the world would I do with myself if he suddenly ceased to be that way?

While he's rambling, I start to unwind the bandage around his arm, carefully, and he barely even notices what I'm doing. It's worse than I thought. It's stained with rust-colored blood, brownish-red, with grease-like spots that are yellow, and it's starting to smell. "How long has this been in place?"

"Few days." He says at length.

"How many days?"

"I dunno'. Three? No, four. Maybe five."

The stitches underneath are sticky and a little clotted, but they don't look infected yet. Never-the-less, I give him a look that, I hope, emanates disapproval. "Why haven't you changed them or cleaned this?"

"Just didn't think about it." He coughs.

I shake my head, but he's a bit more sober now, so I say, "Clear off the table, please, won't you?"

Gojyo blinks, then glances around at the accumulation of trash that accosts the tabletop, "What should I do with it?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. It's all your junk, so I can't say, but I assume a lot of it is trash and needs to be thrown away."

He looks at me a moment, and I know he doesn't want to do that, but he doesn't complain, just gets up and starts to clear the table. "Hey, how the hell've you been anyway?"

"I can't complain." I set to looking for the first aid kit, which is likely buried in the hallway closet where it's always been. "I'm doing well, I think." I don't add that he would know how I'm doing if he'd read even one of the numerous letters I've sent him over the past year.

"School's okay?"

"Yes, it's fine. I do a good deal of studying, and I've recently been promoted to manager at my job."

"What kinda' job?"

"Retail. It isn't glamorous, but it's normal, which is what I wanted all along, you know. And it pays my bills, and they treat me fairly, and were even good enough to give me this time off."

"Right."

I manage to find the first aid kit—it's not buried _too_ deeply—and take it back into the kitchen, where it seems he's taking forever to finish his task of cleaning off the table, so I set the kit on the counter and put away some of the drier dishes in the meantime.

"So, you married yet?"

I laugh, "Goodness, no. Why would you think that? I've only been gone a year."

He turns to look at me a long moment, like he's trying to decide if he should say a certain something. His gaze is bleak, and the shine that I'm so familiar with is gone from it. I want to reach out and touch him, but I don't know that it would help in any way.

"Gotta' girlfriend?"

"No, I'm frightfully boring, I'm afraid. Mostly I study and work, and I'm terribly dedicated to school. Perhaps I'll attend to such things when I've completed my degree."

"When's that?"

"A few more years."

Nodding, he scrapes a pile of papers, heedlessly, into the trash. It looks like it's mostly junk mail, but it's not impossible that something important has gotten mixed up in it.

I chuckle to myself at his familiar carelessness and irresponsibility.

"Well, that's cool." He grins. "Sounds like you're doin' okay. Good for you, pal."

"It's nice to have a normal life at last."

The smile fades, just a touch. "I bet."

Questioningly, I watch him, but he doesn't say anything to let onto why his tone suggests at such hopelessness. "And you. How have you been, Gojyo?"

He coughs fiercely and finishes raking the last bit of trash into the garbage can, and all that's left is my pile of letters, isolated and untouched. He looks at them a moment, like he doesn't quite know what to do with them, and then he picks them up, casually, as if he thinks I have no idea what they are, or that I haven't noticed that they're unopened, and takes them away, into the other room. "Oh, you know. Same old same old around here. Can't you tell?"

It looks like a bit too much of the 'same old same old' to me.

"And what of you personally? Your health for example?"

"Meh. I'm getting old." He reappears in the kitchen doorway, holding his side strangely.

"You don't look as if you're getting old. You look exceptionally young."

He's not convinced. "Still."

It's odd. I think that what I said should have launched us into a volley of teasing insults and laughter, but for whatever reason, it didn't, and his expression is very troubled now.

"You're only turning thirty."

He exhales a long stream of white smoke. His expression is all wrong, his mood inexplicable. Still, I wouldn't trade that look on his face and the heavy smell of cigarette smoke in the air, and the unkempt sight of him for anything in the world right now.

I gesture to the chair again, "Let me look at your arm."

Reluctantly, and slowly, he sits down rolling his sleeve up to the shoulder, and I set to cleaning the stitches, and we're silent a long while. The wound looks as if it was deep, but it's clean, though, if I had to guess, it barely missed his artery. It's not the kind of wound one would obtain just hanging around in their home town. I rewrap the bandages, stoutly, then start to dress his hand. The lacerations there look more recent, so I assume they came from a separate incident. Gojyo smokes quietly as I work, and he keeps his gaze directed away from me, leaving me to sincerely question the manner in which he came by these injuries.

"There." I say with a smile, when I'm finished, "Much better, don't you think? You're far too careless, you know—such injuries are not the sort of thing one is supposed to neglect."

"Yeah, I know. So, I guess…you better look at this one too."

Before I can ask him to clarify, he lifts his shirt to reveal more bandages, wound about his waist, and there's a fairly large patch of only partially dried blood soaking into them on his left side.

I frown at him out of pure concern, but he misreads my expression.

"Sorry."

"I don't mind." I snip the bandages off with ease.

There's a wound in his side that's even deeper than the one in his arm. It looks as though he's been stabbed with a long, broad, very sharp knife. It was likely serrated as well, and this wound is much more agitated than the other. It's close to being infected.

I frown even more. "Where did you get stabbed?"

"In a fight."

"With a combat knife?"

"I didn't bother to ask the guy what kinda' knife it was." He sniffs, sounding almost defiant.

"Why were you fighting with him?"

"He attacked me."

"Over what?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember? How can that be?"

Annoyance comes to life in his eyes, much more quickly and much more sincerely than I'm accustomed to, and he seems almost angry about it, but it's not a type of anger I'm familiar with. "It's none of your business, okay? If you don't wanna' deal with it, just say so."

"I have absolutely every intention of dealing with it." I answer very patiently. I'm not used to him becoming so curt so abruptly, but I don't let it ruffle me either, though I do hesitate to give him a long, measuring look, "It's not a question of _that_, Gojyo; it's a severe wound, and it concerns me, and I'm just interested in knowing how you came by it. That's all."

He doesn't seem completely convinced, but he mutters, "Don't worry about it, okay?"

I merely shake my head at him, a vague gesture of dissatisfaction, and then I set to work on the stab wound, "Then, may I ask why you've not gone to see Ton about this?"

"I've been busy."

"Busy drinking too much?" I give him another probing stare.

Looking a little bothered, Gojyo turns his head away and blows smoke through his nose.

In a while, I'm finished, "I hope that's all of it."

He nods, absently, and I go to wash my hands. "I'd offer to make breakfast, however, it doesn't look like there's much around here to prepare, so may I make the suggestion that we go out to get something to eat?"

"Oh, uh. We could I guess. I better warn you though—I'm completely broke." He smiles, flippantly, as if that's no great concern.

"Are you really _completely_ broke?"

"Well." He glances around. "I might be able to find a thousand yen lying around, somewhere in here, but yeah, pretty much."

I linger by the sink, momentarily, to look him over once more, and to take several things into consideration. On top of being 'completely broke', he really is a total mess, and his injuries have me concerned in that, they're so severe, I feel that he shouldn't be doing anything outside of sitting at home and resting. But, he should eat too, especially since he has a hang over. Hurriedly, I make up my mind. It will be noon by the time we get into town, and then we can pick a place to eat, take our time with our meal, get a little catching up out of the way, and probably be back here by three. Three hours away from home won't kill him, and when we return, I intend to clean the house; in the meantime, I'll see to it that Gojyo lies down somewhere to give his injuries a rest. Honestly, I had hoped to employ his assistance in tidying up around here, but it's out of the question if I know he's hurt, and had I known about the stab wound in his side, I wouldn't have so much as asked him to clear off the table.

It's the best plan I can come up with, so I say, "Don't concern yourself with it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'll pay for it."

"No, c'mon, Hakkai, you don't have to do that."

"I know. Do you feel well enough to walk, or shall we drive? Personally, I'd prefer to walk; I think the fresh air and the physical exercise might do you good, so it's really a matter of whether you feel up to it or not."

"Dude, I dunno'…"

"Your reluctance is senseless, Gojyo; I'm hungry, and I'm going to go eat, so you may as well come along, don't you think?"

He chews his cigarette with familiar, but inexplicable anxiety, then nods slowly, and gets up to prepare for our departure.

While he's at it, I go back into the bathroom and carefully clean the glass out of the sink so I can wash my face and feel a bit revived. I call out, "What did you do to the bathroom mirror?"

"Punched its lights out."

"What in the world for?"

"It was pissing me off."

I accept that without comment. After all, what can I say? One could only assume that it had been something _in_ the mirror that had set him off, and there was only one thing people tended to see in the mirror. With any luck, it's just a result of his drunken antics, and not of some deeper, psychological disturbance.

In the end, I opt to walk into town, partly because I've driven for so long already, and partly because going into town in Jeep will only draw unwanted attention to myself. Gojyo assures me that his injuries aren't bothering him, and that walking will be all right, but never-the-less, I keep a close eye on him as we make our way along, and for the most part, he seems fine, aside from the fact that he's favoring his right leg, ever so slightly, a detail which I'm careful to log away until later, at which point, I intend to bring it up and uncover why he's limping. I'd failed at persuading him to take a shower, but he's cleaned up a little, thankfully, hair pulled back in a somewhat neater ponytail, wearing dark sunglasses so I can't see how bloodshot his eyes are, nor how dark the circles under them are, and he's even changed into a cleaner shirt and jeans. As we go along, he's spirited enough, if not a little tired, and he slings his arm around my neck and fills me in on the town's idle gossip and rumors, although I'm not even slightly interested in that information, but I do feel glad to be beside him, and I walk quite a ways with my hand resting on his shoulder. It's good to be near him, no matter how out of sorts he seems to be, and I'm consumed by how much I've missed him in this last year. I've missed everything about him: his jokes, his laughter, his strength, even his crassness and his glibness, and most of all, the way I can tell him anything, and let him see me in any way, without fear of being belittled, judged or criticized. In a way, it's been nearly unbearable to be away from him for so long—I'm living every day with the sense that I'm missing something terribly important—and it's been difficult, knowing what to do without him.

By and by, I nudge at him, "Well, how are Goku and Sanzo?"

"They're cool, I think. Sanzo's always on my case; Goku's some kinda' martial arts sensei now."

"Yes, Sanzo mentioned that to me in one of his letters. Well, that's good in any case; I should think it's something Goku would excel at."

Gojyo turns to me, almost nervously, I think, "Sanzo writes you?"

I keep my voice neutral, "Of course. How else could we be expected to keep in touch?"

He's quiet for a while after that.

"Does he really still get on your case?"

"What, is he supposed to _stop_ some day?" Gojyo snorts.

"Well, you could attempt to stop giving him things to be on your case for." I tease, jerking on his ponytail.

"Yeah right." He laughs, but I get the feeling he's not joking at all, "That guy hates my guts."

I find it interesting that, after ten years, he's still never figured Sanzo out.

"Why do you say that? Did something happen?"

He's hesitant. I sense that he wants to tell me something, suddenly, something important, but in the end, he merely shrugs and grins, "I don't remember doing anything wrong. Maybe he said something about it in one of his letters to you."

I consider what Sanzo did say in his letter, but it's not enough to even mention at this point in time, though I'm sure I'll have to bring it up, eventually.

"If you've done something to upset him, he hasn't told me anything about it."

"Then I guess he's just pissed about nothing, as usual."

"Possible. Sanzo's temper isn't improving with age, I'm afraid. In any case, I may go see the two of them later—I had intended to invite you, but that wound in your side makes me feel dubious about you traveling such a long distance."

"It's not that bad."

"I think it's rather severe. And that reminds me. If you don't mind my asking, are you broke because your condition has kept you from going out and making money?"

Gojyo doesn't answer right away, and his expression is somewhat veiled and secretive. "Maybe. I dunno'." He smirks at me, "Maybe I've just been unlucky lately."

I smile back, even though I feel like he's dodged every question I've asked him, but by this time, we've come to a small café which, when I lived here, I used to frequent on a regular basis. They serve good food for a reasonable price, and the owner is gracious; the staff is friendly and accommodating, and the other patrons tend to be quiet, good-natured, pleasant people, for the most part. Generally, I never used to invite Gojyo to come eat here with me—it was a place I'd go to, occasionally, if I had finished tutoring a student a bit early, for lunch or early dinner—and in those days, I'd seen it as a sort of respite, coming to a place that was solitary and tidy, to sit and read, or perhaps engage in brief, polite conversation with people who were as well brought up as myself. Today, I'm terribly glad of my rowdy company, and I smile to myself as I muse on the irony of it all.

"Try to behave." I tell him, just for the sake of saying it. "I like this place."

"Yeah? I think I've only been in here like twice."

"It's good, and it's not terribly expensive, and I have friends in here, more often than not." I open the door for him.

"Okay, okay, I'll be good." He gives me an insolent wink as we step inside.

A waitress I know quite well is there, and she greets me warmly, "Hakkai-san! Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Sami. How've you been?"

"Ah, well, I've missed my favorite customer, you know. People say you're going to school now, far away."

"It's true, I'm afraid."

"How fun." She smiles at me, and I catch a glimpse of the sparkle in her eyes. Before I moved, I had often gotten the impression that Sami held some sort of attraction toward me, though she'd never gone out of her way to bring it up, and at the time, I hadn't been looking for a relationship, but now I think of what I told Gojyo, that when I finish my degree, I may consider finding someone.

Sami's an attractive enough young lady, though she's not exactly what one would call beautiful. She does have a pretty face, as well as a lively disposition, and I know that, despite her feminine appearance, she's strong-willed and sturdy. I remember the day I did make the mistake of bringing Gojyo in here with me, and he, naturally, made a pass at her, only to be slapped, smartly, in return. Even now, she's hardly acknowledging his presence.

She leads us across the room to a booth which used to be my favorite, "Aren't you a little old for school, Hakkai-san?"

"Some of my peers seem to think so, but I don't think we should allow a little aging to impede progress, do you?"

"I guess not." She laughs and lays our menus down as we take our respective seats, "Orange juice this morning?"

"Two, please."

Sami hurries away.

Gojyo's sitting across from me rubbing his temples methodically, "I don't drink orange juice."

"You should. It's good for you." I pick up a menu and look it over, "Well, now that I think of it, it's rather late for breakfast, isn't it, Gojyo? In fact, it's past time for lunch."

"Meh. I'll probably throw up anything I eat anyway."

I frown, looking at him over the top of my menu, "Did you really drink _that_ much last night?"

"I guess maybe I overdid it a little."

"Who was with you?"

He hesitates to light a cigarette, stares out the window a moment, at some woman who's walking by, but I can see clearly that he's purposely biding his time, because he doesn't want to answer me. "Who? Um. Nobody."

"No one?"

He shrugs, "It was just one of those nights."

It seems out of character to me, none-the-less, for him to sit at home, alone, and drink so much that he was still utterly intoxicated when I arrived at ten-til-eleven.

"I hope that's not standard routine these days?"

"Nah, it's just 'cause I'm broke, and I have some booze at home. No big deal."

I decide to believe him, solely because I _want_ to believe him, and because, if I don't believe him, I'll start to worry, even more than I'm already worried. I've been a bit uneasy ever since I read Sanzo's letter, but the honest worry began this morning when he opened the door and I saw first-hand how negligent he's been recently.

Sami comes back, and we order, and the two of us joke around a bit and do a little catching up, and she even goes so far as to sit down in the booth, next to me, for a minute or two, before she goes away.

Once she's gone, Gojyo sighs, abruptly, takes his sunglasses off to rub his eyes, "Hey, what's it like at Li Ying?"

"Ah, Li Ying is…a typical school. The village is just a bit smaller than this town, I should think, and there are mostly humans living there, so the economy wasn't very badly affected when the youkai went berserk." I find that I'm all too glad to answer his question. I want to tell him about school, and my town, and the life I'm living. I want to share it with him in any way I can, and have the simple satisfaction of knowing that he has a grasp of where I am and what I do and how I spend my days, all for the basic reason that he's my closest friend, and I'm used to having him involved, to a degree, in my life. "Truth be told, it's a rather conservative, straight-laced community, full of honest, hard-working people who are just trying to make a living."

"Then you must fit in perfectly." He snorts.

"I suppose. Though, I must admit, I wish I had at least one or two friends I could have some fun with. I find honest, hard-working people to be quite boring."

That's my way of telling him how much I wish he were with me, but Gojyo doesn't catch on, doesn't laugh, doesn't tease me about being boring myself, the way I want him to. Instead, he scoffs, suddenly, puts his cigarette out in the ashtray, with some signs of agitation, "That's what people our age do anyway, right? Work their fingers to nubs. Get jobs. Support families."

A long while passes, in which I study him intently. There's something in his expression that hints at frustration when he speaks those words, and what's more, something dark and unfamiliar enters his eyes. At last I say, "Life has a natural way of progressing, Gojyo. Most people our age find themselves in that position quite purposefully, because they're bored with the way they lived when they were younger. It's inevitable to feel that way, eventually—that's part of growing up."

Gojyo sighs again, but heavier this time. "Yeah, I guess."

"With every step maturity takes, one finds themselves longing for something more challenging and interesting. That's why you don't tend to see people in their twenties hanging around in video arcades or out in schoolyards—they go to clubs and bars. Same principles apply."

He very nearly glares at me, "What's wrong with going to clubs and bars when you're thirty?"

"Nothing. What I'm trying to say is, working hard and trying to start a family is something people feel compelled to do as they get older, because they're sick of having meaningless relationships and being broke and constantly feeling alone."

"Right. Yeah. Whatever. Hey, where the hell's our food?"

"We haven't been waiting very long." I go on, casually, because it's quite obvious that he's adamant about changing the subject. "Are you beginning to feel better?"

"I guess so. That reminds me, what're we gonna' do about food for the rest of the time you're here? We can't do this three times a day for a whole week."

"I suppose we'll have to go and purchase some groceries."

He frowns. "I dunno' how I'm gonna' buy food when I'm out of money, Hakkai."

"We'll figure something out." I sip my orange juice.

"It's not cool for you to come here and wind up paying for everything just because I'm broke."

"There's likely very little else that can be done."

"I just wish I'd known you were coming."

"Yes, that would have been convenient for both of us, but I suppose there's no sense in worrying over it now, since you didn't. In any case, I don't think it's cause for worry: a week isn't very long."

He doesn't seem reassured.

I consider asking him why he didn't bother to read my letter, because if he had, he would have known I'd be here. Not that it would improve his monetary situation, but still, it would have been nice to be expected. In the end, I don't want to bring that up, because I have a feeling it could incite an argument.

Sami brings our food, and we eat a while in silence before I say, "You know, we lived with one another for years, so I don't think a little compromise is out of the question for us."

Gojyo never answers, and I can't even guess what he's thinking of.

For a while, I watch him pick, meagerly, at his food, never so much as glancing up at me, and I consider asking him if everything's all right with him, because his mood is still ever so subtly off, and has been all morning, but again, I'm nervous about where such a question will lead us to, so I refrain.

"You're probably pretty popular at school, huh?" He asks, eventually.

"Oh, not exactly. As I said earlier, I'm very dedicated to the work itself, and that doesn't tend to help one make friends. Also, most of the other students are younger than me."

"Yeah, well what about your room mate? How's he deal with your nagging?"

"Room mate?" I echo, giving him a curious look.

"Yeah, you know. The other guy you buy breakfast and clean up after." He grins. To the casual observer, it would look like a standard smile, but I can see otherwise. I can see the anxiety and the annoyance and the vague touch of hurt beyond it.

"There is no such person. I don't have a room mate."

Gojyo appears a bit surprised, and a little uncertain as well.

I have the strangest urge then, to reassure him, because that odd smile is haunting me, even when it's fallen from his face. "I mean it, Goj." I tell him quietly, "I don't have a new room mate."

To think he could actually expect me to go off and replace him so easily. I'm hurt he would think that.

"And before you ask, I don't have a new best friend either."

"Yeah, I didn't think so." He smirks, slowly. "I'm hard to replace."

Normally, I would tease him, perhaps say that I haven't found one because I've been too busy to look for one, or because I haven't fallen down to die in the rain recently, but at the moment, I'm a little afraid that anything less than sincerity could prove to be detrimental to our relationship, and that's only due to the obscure and subtle oddness I keep getting glimpses of while we're together. "That's quite true. In fact, I haven't so much as bothered attempting to do so, because I highly doubt it's possible to begin with."

Gojyo laughs. It seems genuine, for the most part, but I can also sense how nervous and hopeful it is, as if the extremely authentic truth I just told him is something too lofty for him to even wish for, and I'm frustrated, because, before I went away, it's something I wouldn't have even had to say to him out loud, because it's something he should know already.

The longer we sit at lunch, the more I feel as if I made a weighty mistake, leaving him here, but then, I'm not really sure what I could have done to change the situation.

It was a long time ago when I decided I was ready to move on with my life—several years ago—we'd been home from India for a while, and although I'd been able to see that all my companions were settling back into the old way of life rather easily, I'd felt the vaguest sense of discontent. Not _unhappiness_, I suppose, just a need to experience something different, so I'd thought on it a long while, until I was able to pinpoint what it was I wanted from my life, and even when I'd figured it out, I'd taken my time saying anything about it to anyone.

First and foremost, I'd brought it up with Sanzo, in a rare moment when the two of us were alone together, because, although it had been years since the Three Aspects of Buddhism had ordered him to keep watch over me, and things were substantially different since then, it had felt right to say something to him; not to ask permission, exactly, but to inform him of my intentions, and to take counsel from him.

_Sanzo had been very typical about it. He'd snorted and said,_ _"Do what you want. I never thought you'd stay here forever, Hakkai."_

_ "No, of course not, but things being what they are, I wanted to be sure I'm_ allowed _to leave." And then I'd laughed, because even I'd realized how silly that sounded._

_ Sanzo didn't laugh though. He'd simply said, "Well, I imagine that idiot will go with you. I guess that means I'll have to find some new rags to clean up my messes. I'm not sure I trust Goku."_

_ "Oh." I'd frowned at him, without meaning to, "I rather doubt Gojyo will accompany me this time, Sanzo."_

_ Sanzo had looked up, abruptly, from his paperwork, "Why would you think that? Everyone knows he will…unless you two had some major falling out." His eyes had narrowed suspiciously._

_ "We haven't. I intend to invite him, of course, but I don't expect him to accept the offer."_

Sanzo hadn't believed me, and in my absence, he must have seen fit to mention it to Goku, because the next time I went to visit them on my own, Goku had told me that he'd heard that we might be leaving.

"_I_ might be leaving." I'd corrected at once. "If I do, I really don't think Gojyo's going to go with me."

He hadn't understood that any more than Sanzo had; they'd both acted as if it were utterly absurd to think I could move away and not have Gojyo come with me.

It wasn't impossible for him to do so, I'd realized, but, then again, I knew him very well, and, given the circumstances—that is, where I was going and what I was hoping to accomplish—I was relatively certain that he'd opt to stay behind.

In the end, Gojyo was the last one to hear of my intentions, though I hadn't planned for it to go that way, and up until I said something, he'd remained blissfully ignorant of my desires. When we'd come back from India, he'd fallen easily back into step with his old life. The town we'd lived in had changed since we'd left to stop the revival, but never-the-less, there were still casinos, bars, willing opponents, and easy women, so he'd gone back to his lifestyle as if he'd never been away, and that was part of what had bothered me to begin with.

Our journey to India was so incredible, and we'd all seen so much and been so far, experiencing so much personal growth over those few years of travel, I didn't see how I could possibly go back to living the way I had before the trip, because I wasn't the same man anymore, in many ways, and I wanted more: peace, for one thing, success and contentment, for another. I had known that my three companions had grown and changed as well, and that the three of them wanted something different too. That was why Goku had become more involved around the temple, and even Sanzo had become more serious and steadfast in his duties than ever before.

So I'd looked around at my stagnant life, and even though it was a life I'd enjoyed for many years, it wasn't satisfying any longer, and I'd committed myself to the idea that I should like to change it, that I should like to pursue the things I'd always wanted when I was a child: the job, the respectability, the home, the income, and, eventually, the family. For the time being, there were still moments when Kanan's death haunted me, but more and more, I was coming to terms with that, and more and more, I was realizing that I didn't want to be alone forever.

Gojyo, in the midst of his gambling and drinking and fighting and playing, hadn't even guessed at my thoughts. He hadn't made any modifications to his life, and, at the time, I didn't suspect he would care to do so. I knew it then though that my going away would be a sudden and jolting wake-up call for him, and what I'm seeing now may very well be symptoms of that. I know that he didn't go with me because he didn't think he'd fit in there, and I know he won't leave this town to go anywhere else, because he wouldn't want to go off and be totally alone again, and so I know that I, unintentionally, left him in an awkward position, stuck, one might say: not wanting to stay, not having anywhere better to go. Still, what was I to do? Sacrifice everything I'd ever wanted out of life? Keep waiting, perhaps for years, for Gojyo of all people to grow up and reach a point where he'd either be comfortable with going with me or with staying behind? I'd fought with the thoughts for months, battling the guilt and going back and forth inside my own head. As much as he means to me, I couldn't live my life for him. What's more, I couldn't live_ his_ life for him. But what would it mean for him if I packed up all my belongings and drove away? Perhaps the anxiety and the wound of being abandoned as a child is mostly healed now, just as my wounds from the loss of Kanan are mostly healed, but I'd feared that watching me drive away from him could re-open that scar, and badly at that.

Months had passed with my debating over it, and he'd gone through life, completely unaware of my frustration.

I remember the day I told him I meant to leave.

We were sitting outside, on our stoop, side by side as the sun was beginning to set, holding our usual discussions and making our usual jokes, and, all in all, just enjoying one another's company. He was smoking, of course, and even then, he was already beginning to have a cough, so I'd been giving him a hard time over that.

Eventually, we came to a point of long, comfortable silence, and finally, within that silence, I'd found the resolve to look at him and say, casually, "I've been thinking…"

"Oh, yeah?" He sounded so utterly calm, so ready for anything I could say. He had probably thought he was ready for anything, because after knowing each other for nearly ten years, and experiencing so much hardship together, there probably really wasn't a lot either of us could say that would shock the other. So he likely was ready for nearly anything…except what I was about to say.

That idea held me back a moment, forcing me to reconsider. Even then, I was still quite sure he'd never go with me, regardless of how I hoped that he would, but if he didn't want to go, I'd have to deeply consider what that would mean for both of us.

"About what?" He'd asked, when some time passed.

"I've been thinking about going away."

"Hn. Really? Where to?"

"I haven't decided on a place yet, though I've been exploring several different options."

"Didn't you get all the road-trippin' out of your system?"

"I wasn't thinking of a road trip per say."

He'd turned to grin at me, "Don't tell me you're gonna' start walking places."

"No. I'd have to drive, naturally."

"So what? Vacation?"

At the time, I couldn't discern whether he honestly didn't understand where I was coming from, or if he simply didn't want to face it. To me, it seemed odd that he could deny the reality of what I was telling him with such vivacity, but then again, I couldn't rule out the possibility that, to him, everything was fine this way, and that he thought no one was going to go changing things without warning.

"Not…exactly a vacation."

He was silent then.

I highly doubted he'd figured it out though, "I'm talking about moving, Gojyo. Moving away."

Gojyo had nothing to say to that.

I went on, a bit firmly, "There's always been very little for me, here in this town, and since we've come back from India, this place seems all the more bleak. Since I'm no longer incapacitated by my losses and my regrets, I think it may be time for me to attempt to move on, so I've been thinking of going back to school and brushing up on my skills. I thought it might be exciting to be a professor myself, some day."

He'd just smirked, very vaguely, for no discernable reason.

"It's not… That is, I'm not _unhappy_, here, it's more that, after everything that's happened in my life, I find myself longing for something…a bit more _normal_, I suppose."

Gojyo had turned away and stared off into the distance a while, not saying a word.

So I'd added, softly, "You're more than welcome to come with me, of course."

Again, he'd smirked, "Alright. We'll see."

But I'd known immediately, just from the way he'd said it, that he wasn't going to even consider it, and that it wasn't because he didn't _want_ to go with me, but that our separation would be brought about by something much more internal and much more difficult to overcome than a mere difference in whims.

I'd also realized that I was right in assuming that he hadn't been expecting any of what I'd said. Not by any means.

Now I look across the table at him, and I know everything has gone all wrong since I left one year ago, and I can't help feeling guilty over it, even when I asked him to go with me, at least a dozen times. Even on the day of my departure, I said it to him, just as clearly and honestly as I possibly could, given the emotional distress I was in.

"_Why in the world won't you just accompany me? You know I _want_ you to, don't you?"_

He hadn't even smiled as he'd answered, _"Just like you know I can't."_

It didn't even matter why he thought that he couldn't—I'd attempted to change his mind what felt like a hundred times—he was dead-set in that belief, and he was going to let it control his decision.

Now I feel like it's my fault things are this way, even though I did everything in my power to keep it from winding up like this, so perhaps I only feel that way because I don't want to blame him.

What I do want, is to ask him if everything is all right, because his physical appearance, and the look in his eyes, and the condition of the house, and the thing Sanzo said to me in his letter, all indicate to me that everything is not all right, but I should think that, if Gojyo wanted to tell me things aren't all right, he would, and I also think that I shouldn't have to go dragging it out of him like he's a hormonal teenager. I think he's almost thirty and he should have grown out of all this silly, nonsensical behavior by now.

Still, he hasn't, and I'm not surprised, so I say nothing about it, but I do go ahead and ask, "How do you feel?"

Gojyo looks back at me, seeming rather bewildered, "Feel? I dunno', okay."

"How was your food?" I gesture to his half-eaten meal.

He shifts around. "Fine. I'm just not that hungry."

"Your injuries don't hurt, do they?"

"Nah. Not a lot."

I nod. "You should try to take it easy on them for a while, and make sure they're dressed and cleaned—even when I'm not around to tell you to take care of yourself, you should still do it."

Gojyo's face clouds over, a little embarrassed, and perhaps a little annoyed, but he doesn't so much as grumble an excuse.

I smile at him, and then go to pay the bill.

Shortly after that, we leave the restaurant and start to walk. I'm in a reasonable hurry, seeing how he's injured and he honestly should be resting at home, not strolling all over town, but Gojyo doesn't seem to be, and he saunters along, unbothered.

"What're we gonna' do today?"

"I'm not sure. Most of the plans I had half-baked in my mind likely aren't appropriate anymore."

"Like what?"

"For instance, I had meant to go visit Sanzo more or less right away, and I also intended to spend the entire day with you, which is why I came so early in the morning."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well." I sigh, "Things being what they are…I'm just not sure those things are plausible activities for today."

"Why?"

I glance at him, wondering if he's just playing stupid now.

The expression he gives back to me, eyebrow cocked, eyes clear, is honestly, sincerely confused.

I return, calmly, "You're hurt. I didn't anticipate that."

"Ah, fuck." He growls, suddenly, "Don't start that shit with me again."

"Again?"

Gojyo shakes his head, irritably, "It's not that bad, Hakkai."

I'm still wondering about the 'again', but I continue, "Well, I don't expect you to _die_ from it, obviously, but never-the-less, I'm not going to ask you to push yourself, so, in light of that, I believe our best course of action is just to return home, for the time being."

"_Home_? For real?"

"Yes, I think it's for the best."

"You drove all the way back here just to sit around at home?"

"No, I didn't, but as I was saying, the things I had intended to do when I arrived here are no longer appropriate."

"Yeah, well I sit around at home all the fucking time, and I don't wanna' waste the week you're here doing the same shit I do every day."

"Naturally, I don't expect that you'd want to do that, but given the circumstances, I doubt it really matters if it's what you want or not."

"Please. It's not that bad. They're just a couple scratches."

"Scratches don't usually require dozens of stitches."

"Still. C'mon, I'm not saying we have to run out and do something hardcore, but we could at least bum around town a while."

I sigh, because he's being even more stubborn than usual, and because I think that someone who's thirty should be responsible enough to at least take care of their injuries properly. "Honestly, I don't care what we do. I just don't want to watch you push yourself and end the day by dragging you to the surgeon."

Gojyo grins that stupid, flippant, annoying smile that I've missed so much, "No worries. Let's just hang out a while, then we'll go back to the house."

I cave in, reluctantly, in the face of his devil-may-care desires, just as I have dozens of times in the past, reminding myself that, as long as I keep his injuries in mind, and I prevent him from doing anything too exhaustive, he should be all right. "Oh, very well. But you'd better tell me if you feel any pain or discomfort, fatigue, dizziness—"

"Headache, stomach ache, menstrual cramps. I promise." He flashes another insolent smile.

I can't help smiling back, in spite of my uneasiness, "If you fall down and pass out, I'm not carrying you home."

"Yeah, I know." He slings his arm around my shoulders.

We spend a bit of time strolling around town, having nowhere to go and nothing to do, revisiting places and things we used to go to together, and it's all pleasant enough. As I said, outside of being concerned for his health, I don't particularly care what activity we indulge in, because I'm just happy to be near him.

Along the way, a number of people look at me strangely, or greet me. Some are quite excited to see me, and they, at times, embrace me, or else detain me long enough to ask how I am, where I've been, and inquire about what I've been doing, which reminds me that I left numerous loose ends in this town. I don't recall that I told very many people that I was even leaving in the first place.

The more people we encounter, the cheerier Gojyo seems to become, until I almost wonder if I imagined those things which I had perceived to be amiss. I assume his hangover is going away, thanks to the food he's eaten, so it could be that alcohol was the culprit all along. He walks with his arm around my neck, carrying on in his usual manner about the same old, trivial nonsense, which I'm all too thrilled to listen to, because what I've missed the most about Gojyo is just being with him while he's acting like himself.

Not everyone in town is happy to see me, unfortunately. A lot of them give me a wary, or even disdainful look. We pass a group of ladies, and I hear one hiss something about 'that youkai'.

Of course, discrimination has been a big deal, even after we put a stop to the revival. Very few youkai had the audacity to return to the homes they had been living in when they went berserk, too ashamed to face the neighbors they'd attacked or terrorized, but after some time had gone by, and the chaos was a ways behind us, a number of new youkai did move into our town, though they're almost entirely segregated from human society now. They frequent the same places and shop in the same stores, and it's not as if they're not allowed, but for the most part, they keep to themselves, and no one complains. It's all part of the healing process. I should think that, in a few more years, things will be going back to normal, and eventually, they'll be better than they ever were. It will just take time.

In the meantime, I don't bother myself with it.

Gojyo stops suddenly, right in front of a bar we used to go into often, before I moved. "Let's go in here for a sec."

"In here?" I eye it dubiously. It looks as divey and as seedy as ever, though it's certainly not the worst bar in town. It's one I would never go into without him though.

"Yeah, let's say hey to some of the guys."

"I think that could be a bad idea." I reply, tentatively.

"Going into the bar? Why?"

Where to begin? Because he's hurt? Because he looks like hell? Because he, until recently, was complaining about his hangover, and was so drunk last night that he felt inclined to break the bathroom mirror? Because he's already acting so strangely? Because he claims not to have any money? Because it's not even two-o'clock yet?

"Well, I was under the impression that you're completely broke, and I thought you might want to save whatever money available to you for food, or something equally essential."

And, now that I think of it, why in the world should I have to tell him any of that?

"I got a tab."

"That's not the same as having money."

"It'll be okay."

"Yes, but it's only just past noon, Gojyo. Much too early to start drinking."

"Whatever. We're just gonna' have _a_ beer. I didn't say we'd be in here all night."

"What about your hangover?"

"It's pretty much gone."

"Yes, but don't you think-"

"C'mon, Hakkai, live a little. When's the last time you had some fun?"

At this point, I could bring up all my other reasons for why it's a bad idea; I could express all my fears and concerns, but, truthfully, it has been a while since I had a good time, and it's been even longer since I had a good time with Gojyo, so I give in.

"Very well, _a_ drink. But you had better control yourself in here."

He complains about that, half-heartedly, "What's the deal? You act like you turn thirty and you can't have a good time anymore. Are we really supposed to be that boring now?"

"Not at all. Under the circumstances though, it would just be a bit irresponsible to go overboard." Personally, I can't think of anything more mortifying than watching him get drunk, fall on his face, and be incapable of paying his own tab as I drag him out of the bar. Also, if he falls down, he'll probably damage the stitches he has in his side, and then I really will wind up taking him to the doctor.

Come to think of it, I can hardly believe I agreed to come inside.

"Gawd." He snorts, blasting a stream of smoke through his nostrils, "You've gotten way worse, know that?"

I laugh, "I agree that one or two drinks won't hurt us, even if it _is_ just past one forty-five, but you had better bear in mind the circumstances: you seem to have no money, and if, for whatever reason, they expect you to settle the tab tonight, when we leave, you had better be able to deal with it, because if you can't, I'll probably have to. Is that so unreasonable?"

Gojyo sniffs.

I smile, pleasantly.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time, Mom. Hey, barkeep. Get this guy a drink before he drives me crazy."

The bartender, Jai-Soo, is a man I remember from before I moved away, a human who came into the town after we returned from India, who's thin, wiry, approximately forty-six, with very dark eyes, and a nose that's been broken at least twice.

He calls back, "Keep your shirt on, Gojyo, you fuckin' lush, I-"

When he notices me, he cuts off and smiles, broadly, "Hey, what'dya' know? Cho Hakkai! It's all over town you came back, but I didn't think you'd wind up here."

Gojyo leans on the bar and starts to smoke.

I return the smile, "My, news certainly travels quickly in this town, doesn't it? Still, I think you should have expected it, Jai-Soo. This is where we always come when Gojyo needs a stiff drink in the middle of the day."

"There're swankier places this bum could take you to if you're just in town for a little while, huh, Gojyo? You always gotta' be such a fuckin' cheapskate?"

"Just be happy we came into this dive, Jai-Soo. Now you gonna' pour me a shot, or do I have to go over there and do it myself."

"Now wait a minute. You got any money?"

"Put it on my tab, smart ass."

"Your tab's running pretty high these days. You ever gonna' pay it?"

"Yeah, of course. At the end of the month, like always."

"Like _always_? Listen here, _smart ass_, your tab was due three months ago, and you can't take advantage of my generosity forever."

I shoot Gojyo a caustic look.

He doesn't appear even remotely bothered, "Na?"

"Your tab is three months overdue? You failed to mention that."

"Jai-Soo's just being a bitch—it's not a big deal, I'll just pay it at the end of the month, when I've got some money."

"How high _is_ your tab?"

Jai-Soo whistles, but Gojyo cuts him off, "None of your business. Now you gonna' drink or what?"

I'm decidedly irritated, but I request hot sake just the same, because I'm determined to enjoy the moment, regardless of the consequences that may come later.

Gojyo gets a shot of whiskey.

"That isn't a beer." I say, somewhat severely.

"No big deal though. One shot of whiskey's just like having a beer—it's just quicker." His subsequent smile is triumphant, as if the nonsense he just concocted is written in stone somewhere.

"Remember you said we wouldn't be here very long." I remind him, barely concealing my disapproval.

"I know." He smirks. "Let's go play pool."

"If you want. I'll join you in just a moment."

He sets out to join a handful of men at the nearest pool table, and I take the opportunity to turn to Jai-Soo again.

He raps his knuckles on the polished top of the bar, before I can speak, "Enjoy your sake. It's on the house."

"That's very generous, thank-you. However, you may as well go ahead and open a tab for me—I have a feeling I'll be here much longer than I intend to be—and you may as well put his drinks on it as well from now on. The two of us can settle up later."

Jai-Soo's dark eyes brighten a bit, "That's nice of you."

"Oh, I just don't want to be embarrassed is all."

"All righty, you got it." He lingers a second, as if there's more to say, and then begins to turn away, thinks better of it, looks back at me to say, "It's a good thing you're back."

It's inexplicable, and startling, and I blink myself out of confusion, but by the time I begin to ask why that is, he's already off to serve a different patron, and I'm not entirely sure I want to know in the first place.

For the rest of the afternoon, the bar stays decidedly empty. It's a weekday after all, and the people in town have better things to do than drink, so in a way, I can't understand what we're doing, exactly. The people who _do_ come in aren't necessarily people I know or was ever close with before I left, but I try to enjoy myself just the same. I have a little bit of sake, but I drink it slowly, knowing that I have to pay for everything at the end of the night, and I watch Gojyo carefully.

His injuries don't appear to be troubling him, aside from the fact that, for whatever reason, he's still limping, and he's carrying on like everything is normal, with very little discretion where the alcohol is concerned, and it's evident that he couldn't care less that his tab is three months overdue, or that Jai-Soo is being, I'd say, inhumanly gracious to him by not demanding that he pay at once. I watch him order half a dozen shots within the amount of time it takes me to be half-way done with my second flask of sake, and then I try to coerce him into pacing himself, but he doesn't want to listen to me, and no matter what I say, he always goes back to order another drink when the current one is gone.

In any case, his mood is cheerful enough. He laughs with me, jokes, clowns around, leans on me, punches me in the arm, just like he always has, and he seems a bit more like himself than he has all morning, so I'm determined not to nag, worry or fight. I just want to enjoy myself.

For a while, we play pool, and we clean up, as usual. People who used to know us leave the game before long, and the people who don't know us aren't long to follow suit, especially since my partner is making high-end bets with money he doesn't have. When all our would-be competition is gone, we play against each other, and we're fairly even-matched, as we've always been, though I think I may be a tiny bit better. Gojyo spent his childhood hanging around in bars and pool halls, so he has experience to his advantage. I didn't learn to play pool until I met him, but I have a better grasp of the science behind the game. He may be good at statistics and calculations, but trajectory is a different matter, and he's always played pool with a haphazard, stab in the dark approach, seeing how luck and chance tend to be his tools rather than strategy and planning. Besides, he's a bit drunk.

I win a couple times in a row, and then he comes over and shoves me, playfully, "Dammit, you! I forgot, there're some things you don't go head-to-head with Hakkai on."

"There are a lot of things like that." I say with a laugh, and pat him on the face, roughly.

He shoves my head down, grinding his knuckles into my skull, "Yeah, yeah, you're so good at _everything_."

We roughhouse a few minutes longer, and then he sits up on the pool table, while I rack up the balls for another game.

"Guess I forgot how good you are at everything." He says lightly.

"Yes, but don't forget who taught me this game."

"Me right? Yeah, but I didn't teach you _cards_."

"No, an old man in my home town did, when I was nine or so."

"An old guy?"

"Well, middle-aged, I should think. Now that I mention it, he was quite a lot like you."

"How's that?"

"He bummed around bars all the time, playing cards and pool, and he had a somewhat rough disposition, always cursing and making lewd jokes, hitting on beautiful women and starting fights. He was somewhat frowned upon in our town, constantly in and out of trouble, but he was happy-go-lucky, like you are, and nothing ever kept him down."

"Guess that sounds _kinda'_ like me."

"I was strangely drawn to him, as well, though it might have been simply because the sisters were so disappointed with me whenever I was caught talking to him. I suppose, they worried I would turn out that way."

"Good thing you didn't." He hops down from the table, chalking his cue. "It's sorta' a dead-end way of life."

I wait to see if he'll expand on that, but it's his only say on the matter, and the game resumes, and the time continues to wear away. Before I even realize it, the sun is going down.

"Goodness, it's getting a bit late, don't you think?"

"What is it, like five?"

"Closer to six. We've been here for more than four hours."

"Just one more game, 'kay?"

One more game turns into half a dozen more games, and a few more people venture in, and I know some of them, so they buy me drinks and sit at the bar with me, and we catch up. Gojyo continues his own exploits, gambling and talking to people he knows, approaching a woman or two every here and again.

A couple more hours pass in that way, and then I start to seriously consider leaving. Everything is commonplace, and it's eight or so, and Gojyo is getting quite drunk by now, so I think it may be best to pay the tab and convince him to go home with me. I'm still concerned about his injuries, and his behavior in general.

I turn to my right to have a word with Jai-Soo, am startled to find Bao-zhi sitting there with me, smoking a cigar and facing straight ahead; his left eye has a patch over it, so I can't make out his expression, but he looks as stoic and tough as he ever has.

"Bao. I'm surprised to see you here."

"I'm always around."

"I didn't hear you come in. Did you just arrive?"

He nods, "They said you were back in town—I happened to be walking by and saw you through the window."

"In that case, I'm glad you came in." Out of all the people Gojyo's ever hung out with, Bao-zhi is probably the only one of them who I would consider a real friend, and that's because he's proven that we can trust him, on several different occasions, and I have reason to suspect that he cares for Gojyo, genuinely, on some level or other. Still, he's mysterious, always saying very little, and he dresses like a mountain man, in furs and leather, with feathers, and jewelry carved from bones. Popular rumor states that he was a hit man or a gangster once, and that he came here to hide. I don't know if he went berserk amidst the chaos or not, but he was right here when we got back from India, just like we left him, aloof and unconcerned.

Jai-Soo comes to pour him a drink without either of them saying a word or making a gesture, and Bao takes the first sip slowly, "How long you here for?"

"It hasn't been entirely decided yet. A week perhaps."

Bao nods.

I think a moment. I'd like to say more to him, but I'm uneasy about staying much longer. My tab is probably getting rather high, no thanks to Gojyo.

"How's life?"

"Well enough. Not as fast-paced as I'm accustomed to, but then, I suppose that's what I'm looking for. How's your health?"

"Fine. And Gojyo? How's Gojyo?"

I study him at a loss, "I would think that nearly anyone in this town knows better than I do."

"You'd be surprised. He doesn't talk to many of us anymore."

"Is that so? But surely you all convene at least a few times a week to play cards." That's like saying the sun will come up tomorrow.

Bao shakes his head, heavily, "Gojyo doesn't play cards anymore. Not like he used to."

I'm silent.

He waits.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry. I thought you just said Gojyo doesn't play cards anymore, but I must have heard you wrong. Perhaps the liquor is impairing my hearing."

"That is what I said."

"But…how can that be? Gojyo's always played cards, all the time I've known him. That's how he _survives_."

Bao shrugs, "He still pops in, every now and then, I guess. I ain't really talked to him in a while, and I can't remember the last time I sat at a card table with him."

Inevitably, I turn to look at my roommate, who's still across the room, twirling his pool cue and talking to some women, and he seems to be having a good time. "That can't be true."

When I say that Gojyo survives by playing cards, I'm not even necessarily talking about money. That's how he socializes as well. It's how he has fun. It's how he gets his mind off things when he's had a bad day, as much as it's how he connects with people. I can't imagine what he'd be doing instead. I can't imagine why he would stop.

"He must still play sometimes."

"Not very much. If he does, not for very long. A few hands and then 'I'm out, guys'. And that's not all. He ain't much of a player anymore either. See those girls? He's not gonna' get their numbers, ditch you, and bang 'em both at the same time."

"That's ridiculous. Why else would he even be talking with them?"

"Probably so you won't suspect anything's wrong."

"What _is_ wrong?"

"No one knows. He won't talk to anybody about it."

"Could it be that he's just starting to settle down at last?" Even as I say it, I know that's hoping for far too much, and I'm feeling my old, familiar concerns creep back into my head. Didn't I ask myself, dozens and dozens of times before I moved away, _What is he going to do without me?_

Perhaps this is just the first glimpse of the answer to that question.

"Not when he's on a bad bender every night—he drinks like he wants to die."

I think of his condition when I arrived this morning, compare it to his condition now, seven hours later, and consider what his condition will be like tomorrow morning, if I allow him to continue drinking tonight, and then I feel somewhat foolish for agreeing to this.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, but that's the way it's been, for the last four, five, maybe six months."

Gojyo has noticed Bao and is walking toward us now, stumbling a little and sloshing some alcohol on himself, all grins and laughter, "Baaaaao. Long time no see!"

Bao-zhi returns a calm, "Hey, Hot Shot."

"I di'n't think I'd ev'r see ya' in _this_ dump."

"You're the one who ain't been around lately."

"Wha'ever. I'm still 'round, jus' ev'rybody's weird—Rong's gett'n a kid, y'know tha?"

"Everybody knows that."

"Oh." I laugh, "I didn't know that. _The_ Rong? That will certainly be interesting."

"Interes'ing? Shiit. Tha' guy's gonna' be one fuck-up of'a' dad." He slams the last of the whiskey he's got, puts his arm on my shoulder, and leans heavily on me.

"Well, being a father is hard, but I think Rong can pull it off, if he keeps his head in the game." Bao gives Gojyo a long, hard look, "I heard he punched your face in good the other night."

I turn immediately to Gojyo, "Rong hit you?"

Gojyo doesn't look like he cares at all. "Yeah. I got 'im back though."

"What on earth did he hit you over?" Rong and Gojyo have never gotten along very well—they've always been known to fight, every here and again—which is strange because Rong is so much younger than Gojyo, and I know he looks up to him.

"Nn. I don' remember. Guess I said somethin' he di'n't like. Maybe Goku remembers."

"Goku was there?"

"Yeah, I think so." Gojyo laughs, suddenly, throws his arm around my neck, laughing right in my ear, and nearly falls down, and I have to steady him. He's drunker than I thought. "Hey. Know wha' somebody tol' me? Somebody tol' me his girl's a youkai. His kid's gon' be a mutt like me."

I frown at him a little. It's not like him to say something like that in public. It's really not like him to bring something of that nature up at all.

Bao finally turns to him, frowning as well, answers sternly, "Somebody said that to fuck with you, Hot Shot."

"Yeah? How ya' figure?"

"I met Ayako. She's a human."

Gojyo shrugs, "Oh well. One's the loneliest number."

Silently, I consider the exchange. I hadn't realized anyone in town was aware of Gojyo's mixed blood, including Bao-zhi, and yet Bao seemed to take it all in stride. Perhaps he'd known all along and just never said anything about it.

"Pro'ly good though. Don' need an'more mutts in this dead-end town, with no way up an' no way out, jus' waitin' for somebody ta' put 'em outta' their mis'ry. Fuggin' losers."

To hear him say that makes my skin crawl a bit, and I tighten my grip on him—it is by far the most disturbing thing he's said all day.

Bao shakes his head, and I detect displeasure in his expression, regardless of how mild it is, "Take the damn idiot home, Hakkai."

"Very well." I turn to close my tab, and Jai-Soo sets to printing my receipt.

"I don' wan' go yet." Gojyo protests.

"Yes, but I believe it's time."

"Jus' one more drink, pal."

"Only if it's water."

"_Water?_ Fuckin' _crazy,_ 'Kai?"

I sign my ticket and stand up, pull into my coat and help him into his, and then I have the thankless, nearly impossible task of taking him out of the bar. He argues with me, and whines at me, pushes me at times, or else gets distracted and starts talking to someone else, accidentally knocks over a chair, and then nearly falls down laughing, but, eventually, I succeed, and begin to tow him home.

"I thought I told you to control yourself." I say calmly, even though now my stomach is tied up in knots.

"Hn. I ain't _that_ drunk."

"Well, that aside, you owe Jai-Soo a lot of money, so I had hoped you'd be a bit more discriminate."

"Nn. It's no big deal—I put it all on my tab, so we're good."

"Actually, I paid for it."

"Wha?"

"I had Jai-Soo put your drinks on my tab."

He gives me a bleary, wide-eyed look, "Why? I din't ask ya' t' do that, 'Kai."

"We'll discuss it later."

"Goddamn, man, ya' coulda' tol' me you were gon' do that."

"To what end? It's not as if you would have behaved even a bit more responsibly if you'd known I was paying."

Quietly, he shuffles along next to me, head lowered slightly, cigarette burning down to a nub, getting close to his fingers, and that thing he said at the bar, about so-called mutts, is haunting me to no end. The sight of him looking even remotely dejected upsets me.

I hook my arm around his neck, "You seem out of sorts, Gojyo."

"Naw. I ain't. I ain't. Just…stuff's weird…without ya'."

I pull him a bit closer, on the brink of embracing him, "Life is strange without you as well, I assure you."

"Righ. Ya' don' hafta' bring any stupid, drunk assholes home in th' middle of th' nigh.'"

"That isn't why. I hope you know better than to think that's what I mean." In a way, I've been considerably out of sorts myself, I realize, always distant from my peers, always avoiding people, as if I'm afraid to forge new friendships and connections. As if I'm afraid I'll accidentally replace the old ones. In a way, I feel as if I'm almost resorting back to the way I was before I met Kanan.

I add, "I don't particularly like to see you acting this way."

"Actin' wha' way? I've always done this."

Considering what Bao-zhi told me, I can't even begin to grasp what a huge lie that is, but I can't call him on it now, not knowing if he'll remember this conversation tomorrow or not.

We're quiet for the rest of the walk home, and he suddenly seems troubled to me, as if telling the lie is as hard for him as it is for me to listen to it.

I suppose we'll deal with it later, because if what Bao told me is true, and if Sanzo had good cause for saying what he wrote in the letter—something I'll uncover tomorrow when I go to see him, by myself, in the morning, while Gojyo sleeps—I don't think I can go away at the end of the week without at least confronting the issue.

Still, there must be more I can do. Even if he won't listen to me when I talk to him about it outright, there are probably ways I can manipulate the situation in order to improve it. Assuming it's not as bad as it's beginning to look.

We arrive at the house a bit after nine, and I look around, intently. It's still home to me, even messy this way, even with all the furniture removed, and I recall the relief and the joy I experienced when we returned from India. At times, I can't believe I chose to leave.

I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have.

_That is not the answer, Hakkai._

I put Gojyo on the couch, and he slumps over on the pillow with a groan. I could take him to his room, I suppose, but the bed still isn't made, and that would probably incite some senseless argument concerning who deserves what.

For a moment, then, I sit beside him, hand on his shoulder, "Do you need anything?"

"Nah."

He turns over and stares up at me with half-closed eyes, like he can't believe I'm actually here, "Hey…where th' hell you been an'way?"

"You know where I've been."

"Yeah, but…_where_?"

"At college, Gojyo. In Hong Kong." I say, very, very patiently.

"You're real fuckin' far away."

"Not really." It's a lie though. I feel even further away than I actually am, and I don't like to think that, in a few days, I'll have to leave again.

"You ever comin' back?"

"Are you that attached to me?" I tease, reluctantly.

"After ten fuckin' years? I wonder." He takes a drag off his cigarette. "So…are ya'?"

"Yes, of course. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"For a while."

"I already told you I'm not leaving forever."

"I miss ya'."

"I miss you too."

"Jus' life. Yeah? People go away."

I know that's always been his secret motto, that people leave and there's nothing you can do to change that, and I've been afraid ever since I decided to go away, that he'd start lumping me into that 'people who've left' category, because I did promise him I never would.

Absently, I stroke his hair. "They do, yes, but I'm not leaving forever."

He half sits up and jerks me into an awkward hug, says "Sure", like he doesn't believe me.

"I told you I'd never leave you behind, didn't I?"

"Ya' already did, smart ass."

"Do you actually think that? Do you actually believe I'd walk out of your life without so much as some qualms of guilt?"

"…Naw. I never thought ya' would."

"I never will."

"Bet'er not."

With a sigh, I pry him off, "This isn't about my leaving though, is it? Not really?"

"Wha'dya'a mean?"

"Nothing. We'll talk about it later, just get some sleep."

He sighs too, "Wha'ever."

"Lie on your side." I remind him.

He turns over onto his side, "'Night, 'Kai."

Momentarily, I touch his ponytail, and then stand there looking at him. I had meant to go into the other room and sleep there, but suddenly, I just don't want to, so I sit down beside the couch, leaning my head against the armrest. After a second, Gojyo hooks his arm around my neck, and we stay that way.

Shutting my eyes, I try to relax, but I have the strangest sense of foreboding and worry building up within me.

The following morning, I wake up at seven-thirty, shower in the filthy shower, put on a clean sweater out of my suitcase, because the day outside looks misty and cold, eat toast without jam, because it's the only thing I can find, and then I feed Jeep his breakfast. I almost take him with me—it would be much faster than walking to the temple—but I change my mind when I'm standing in the kitchen doorway, looking at Gojyo, who's sleeping fitfully on the couch, and I haven't forgotten the concerns and uncertainties of yesterday, and as I look back on some of the things he said, I find myself more worried than ever, so much so that I'm rather reluctant to leave him; but I don't want to wake him up and take him to the temple with me either. He may not think the wound in his side is worth getting worked up over, but I do, and I haven't forgotten that he's limping either. In any case, it seems best to just let him sleep.

Finally, I scratch Jeep under the chin and look into his eyes, "Look after him for me, won't you, Little One?"

Jeep chirps and, with a flap of his wings, glides across the room, lands at Gojyo's feet, walks up the length of his body to settle down on his shoulder, stretches his neck over Gojyo's head to rest his chin on the arm of the couch, and even spreads his wings a little so that he's blanketing Gojyo's upper body, as if he means to protect him.

"That's a bit unnecessary, but thank-you, none-the-less." I chuckle and head for the door.

For a moment I stand outside in the pale gray of morning, on the stoop, thinking, and I look back at the door, a deep sense of foreboding still growing within me, then, carefully, I get out Sanzo's letter and unfold it. It's creased from being folded and unfolded many times, because I keep looking at it. I've looked at it so many times, I don't even need to skim it to find the line I want, because I just inherently know where it is, and in fact, I know exactly what it says, but maybe there's part of me that still can't believe such a line could exist within a letter from Sanzo.

Not even half-way down the page, just one line, solitary and isolated from the rest of the letter, as if to serve as a sort of intermission from the other things he'd been writing me about: _you'd better come see that kappa._

And that's all of it. No further elucidations. No explanations. No reasons. Just the suggestion that I come back to check up on Gojyo. Gojyo, whom, for an entire year, hasn't spoken to me. Gojyo, whom I haven't had the slightest clue about, regarding how he's been. Gojyo, whom I've been secretly, slightly, but never-the-less, constantly concerned for ever since the day I left. And then Sanzo of all people tells me I should come and see him, and when I arrive, by all appearances, he's not doing well at all. Still, I would like to know exactly what it is that prompted Sanzo to say such a thing to me; after all, I can see and feel that things aren't well with Gojyo because I know him so intimately. I highly doubt that Gojyo would be open enough with either Sanzo or Goku to signal to them that there's a problem, or that Sanzo would write to me over a messy house or an increased level of intoxication. No, that single, simple line indicates to me that things are worse than they appear to be, and I just wonder what it is that Gojyo had to do in order to get Sanzo's attention.

Folding the letter again, I sigh and step down. I can't believe the things I'm hearing and learning from everyone around me, and I especially can't understand why, if things are so bad, he hasn't said anything about it to me at all. Just the opposite in fact, he's insistently acting as if everything is perfectly normal.

As I walk to the temple, I feel more and more frustrated, and more and more uneasy. I can't exactly guess at why this is happening or what caused it, but I don't want to think it could all be my fault. I don't want to assume Gojyo's incapable of living without me, because I know he isn't.

Then I think to myself that perhaps _he_ doesn't know that, and that could be the cause of it all.

Of course, there's that disturbing statement he made at the bar last night, about having no way up and no way out.

And the oh-so frustrating, alarming statement Sanzo gave on the matter.

Apparently it's all connected, and when I go back home, I'm going to have a serious talk with him, and I'm going to smack him, if I have to. This is inexcusable.


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I like some parts of it, but not others… I guess I feel that way about this whole fic, honestly.**

**I hope you guys enjoy it though!**

_There's no one left to blame it on…_

**Goku**

It's still kinda' early as I walk through the temple courtyard—a lot earlier than I like to get up—but Sanzo's all paranoid about people sneaking in and stealing stuff lately, so he wants me to help keep watch. He says there have been weirdos sneakin' around outside the temple, and even though I haven't seen them, he acts really sure. That means I got to go walking all around the temple in the morning and the evening and sometimes even in the middle of the night. I can't figure out why. I've been keeping watch for a couple weeks, and I haven't seen any sign of someone trying to break in. I can't figure out why Sanzo thinks anyone's planning on it.

Oh well. It's a nice day. I mean, it's misty and chilly and it smells like rain in the air, but it's calm and peaceful, and I like the cool, crisp feel of the air and the rainy smell. That rainy smell always makes me think of Gojyo. I don't know why he smells like rain to me, he just always has. Maybe it has to do with being half-Kappa. Whatever it is, it's a familiar smell, and I like it.

I wonder what's up with that guy anyway. I ain't seen him since the other night, when he was acting crazy, 'cause I've been busy, watching for robbers and teaching, and other stuff. As soon as I get a chance though, I'm gonna' go back down there and check on him.

Frowning, I think about the conversation I had with Sanzo the night after Gojyo got hurt.

"_Is he really gonna' be okay?"_

_ Sanzo shook his head._

_ "Ya' mean you think he's-"_

_ "I mean I have no idea. He acts like he thinks he will be."_

_ "He's hurt pretty bad, yeah?" I didn't see the wounds, 'cause Sanzo already stitched them up before I got home, but from the way he was acting, I got the feeling they were serious._

_ "He shouldn't be walking home."_

_ We both tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen._

_ Quietly, I asked, "Why's he actin' this way?"_

_"All I can guess is, he's a dumb ass, and a loser, who doesn't have a future."_

_ I stared at him. It was a really, really harsh thing to say, even from Sanzo, and it took me a long time to say, "I don't think that's true."_

_ "But it is. At this rate, that selfish, little bastard will never figure his life out; he'll be lucky just to live a few more years."_

_ Suddenly, I stood up, trying not to sound too angry, but hearing that scared me, and I couldn't help yelling a little, "That's Gojyo you're talking about, Sanzo."_

_ "Don't you think I know that?"_

_ "You're being pretty hard on him. What'd he piss ya' off?"_

_ "Gojyo always pisses me off." He stood up too, folding his newspaper and dropping it on the desk, "I don't have any more time to waste talking about that son-of-a-bitch—I'm going to bed."_

_ Just like that, he walked away, and I sat there a long time, feeling upset about the stuff he said._

Even now, it's still bothering me. What the heck does all that stuff he said _mean_? Lucky just to live a few more years? Is stuff really that bad? Should I be way more worried than I am?

_Loser with no future._

That's way messed up to say about your friend—Sanzo and Gojyo aren't _good _friends, but they _are _friends, 'cause even when they say they don't care about each other, I've seen that they do—I guess Gojyo really pissed Sanzo off, but I don't know when. They haven't seen each other since Gojyo went on that mission, and before that, Sanzo didn't seem too upset with him. But now…

_I don't think Gojyo's a loser._

Why would Sanzo say that stuff unless he knew something I didn't?

_…he'll never figure his life out…_

No way. Gojyo's not _that_ dumb. And never figuring your life out…that would be really sucky.

_What the heck's up with that kappa_?

It makes me feel crappy that I don't know a good way to help him. Sanzo keeps telling me it's not my job to help him, and that I shouldn't worry about it, but I know Goj wouldn't just let it go if I was acting the way he's acting.

There's gotta' be something I can do to help—I just need to think harder. I mean, I'm not a kid anymore, and I should be able to help my friends.

Now my patrol is almost done, and I've got a couple hours before I have to start my class. That'll be just enough time to eat breakfast and talk to Sanzo for a couple minutes. I head back toward the main, inner gate, round a corner of thick bushes and trees, and stop.

A guy is standing there in the courtyard, his back to me, looking at a fountain that's turned off but still has water in it. He's got short, dark hair, wearing a nice, black jacket and khaki pants, and he's totally familiar.

Grinning, I start sneaking up on him, moving fast, but as quiet as I can

He must be thinking real hard, 'cause he doesn't notice me coming, and I think it's a good thing I'm not an enemy, or he'd be dead now.

He's paying more attention than I thought: when I'm just a step away from him, he starts turning to face me, but it's already too late.

I pounce on him, wrap him in a bear hug, lifting him up off the ground a foot or something, and spin him around once. Hakkai chokes, like he can barely breathe, "Go-ku…"

I laugh, "You're here!"

"Yes. So it would seem." He laughs a little too.

Finally, I set him back down. "I didn't know you were coming."

Smiling, he turns to me. "I hardly knew it myself. At any rate, how are you, Goku? You look well."

"I'm good! How're you?"

"I'm well, thank-you. I hope it's not too early for a visit; I meant to come later in the day, but there were some complications with my schedule."

"Nah, no biggie. I got a couple hours b'fore my class starts, so I'm glad ya' came early. I mighta' missed ya' if you came later." I give him a thumbs up, 'cause I'm way happy to see him.

"I'm glad to hear that."

We start walking through the courtyard, side-by-side, taking our time, and it makes me think of old days. Hakkai used to come up and tutor me, every now and then, so I spent a lot of time with him here, back when I was a kid. It feels good to have that again, even if it's not exactly the same. He hasn't changed very much since the day we met: Hakkai's always been so mature, being thirty doesn't make much a difference to him. Just like Sanzo. They both _look_ like they're thirty, and they act that way too, but I can see that Hakkai's got more wisdom in his eyes now, like he always knows exactly what's going on, and one thing I noticed, even before he left one year ago, is how wickedly patient he started acting over the years. He's never been _im_patient, but after knowing him all this time, I noticed, by the time we got back from India, he reached a point where he's almost impossible to ruffle, no matter what you say to him or what you do. Anyway, he looks really grown up, dressed kinda' nice, and the way he walks is graceful and unhurried. Just being with him makes me feel peaceful and relaxed.

"When'dya get here?"

"I arrived yesterday in the morning."

I think it's kinda' weird that he hasn't visited in a whole year, and now, suddenly, here he is. "Did'ja' get time off from school an' work an' stuff?"

Hakkai takes his time answering me, "My job was good enough to give me a short, unpaid vacation, yes, but, unfortunately, my school break isn't for another month or so."

I give him a weird look, "Ya' mean…you're missin' class?"

"To put it simply, yes." Hakkai just laughs, like that doesn't matter at all to him. I know he's smart, and he can probably make up for any time he loses real easy, but it's not like him, missing something important like school.

"That's kinda' weird. Why didn't you just wait a month ta' come see us?"

"You know how impulsive I am." He laughs again, but I can tell he doesn't wanna' give me the real answer.

I don't think he could just _sense_ that stuff is off here—even Hakkai's not that smart—and I seriously doubt Gojyo would have told him, 'cause that's not what Gojyo is like, so that means, if he's back because things are weird, Sanzo must have said something to him, and whatever it was, it's a big enough deal to bring Hakkai away from school.

There's no way he'd come visit and miss school just for fun, so something is up.

"Does Sanzo know you're comin'?"

"He should be expecting me, yes."

That means Sanzo definitely called him, somehow.

We leave the garden behind and go through the inner courtyard, toward the temple entrance, and I think it's strange how quiet it is for being almost ten o'clock.

"In any case, I've heard that you've become something of a teacher yourself now, Goku. How do you like that?"

"It's fun, and a lotta' the monks are nicer to me now, and Sanzo says it keeps me outta' his hair, so it's pretty cool for everybody."

"Wonderful. Tell me again, how long have you been doing that?"

"Justa' few months, or something."

He looks kinda' thoughtful about that. "Yes, I see. Well, it's good to know you're doing well."

We're in the temple now, and I stop, suddenly, "What about breakfast? You had breakfast yet, Hakkai?"

"Not a very good one, I'm afraid—the bed and breakfast I'm staying at is a bit lacking on the breakfast half of things."

"Cool, come have breakfast with me! I'm starvin' to death."

Hakkai laughs, loudly, and I like the way it echoes around the big, empty hallway, "Goodness. Some things never change, am I right?"

Laughing a little too, I grab his arm and lead him down the hall, 'cause Sanzo moved stuff around since he left, and he probably doesn't know where we're going. "Jeez it's been forever since I saw ya'. I can't believe you've been gone a whole year—I mean, it feels like ya' left last week or something, but it's really been a whole year, yeah? I missed ya'."

"I've missed you too." He's just letting me lead him along, like it's no big deal, and it sounds like he really means what he says, so I suddenly miss him even more.

"How far'd'ya' hafta' drive to get here? Sanzo talks like you live a long ways away. Do ya'?"

"Well, it's not _terribly _far. A twelve hour drive, and that's not including breaking for meals and such."

"That's nothing for you, yeah? You drove us all the way to India and back."

"Mm, that's true, but I'm a bit out of the habit now, and I must admit, I'm tired."

I guess it's really not that far, but twelve hours _is_ a long time to drive. No wonder he doesn't come to visit us ever. That makes me think that he definitely has a serious reason for being here now.

Ahead of us, the hallway opens up into the dining hall, where there's a long, wooden table, surrounded by cushions. It's quiet and it smells like incense, and the far wall is nothing but glass, with a view of the garden outside.

"Things seem to be rather different here."

"Yeah, Sanzo moved some stuff around, 'cause he thought the old way was inconvenient."

"That's a bold move, isn't it? Renovating the temple."

"He's way intense these days: he does whatever he wants, an' ev'rybody just has ta' listen. Go on and siddown, if ya' want, I'll get us some food."

"Ah, thank-you." He sits on a cushion that's close to the window and looks out. I walk through a curtain that leads to another, smaller room, where a big pot of rice is sitting, along with some fresh fruit, load up a bunch of bowls, and go back to him. "Ta-dah!"

"Oh, my, Thank-you, Goku. All I had this morning was a bit of stale toast, which was none-too-appetizing, so this looks delicious."

I laugh, 'cause I've missed him so much, and I can't believe he's actually here with me. Suddenly, I'm not worried about anything at all.

We both eat for a couple minutes, quietly, before he asks, "How did this job of training acolytes come to you, exactly?"

"Dunno'. Hmm. Guess some of the old instructors retired, or died, or somethin'." I think a sec. I like his question. I like that he asks me about it, like I'm an adult, not like stupid Gojyo, who just wants to make fun of me and doesn't care how I got the job. "Sanzo was havin' a hard time picking new people, so he asked me if I wanted ta' do it. I thought it'd be fun."

"It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you."

"At least everybody around here treats me with respect now. Took 'em long enough."

"You know how it is. Many people have their share of trouble in overcoming prejudice, but you mustn't let it bother you, naturally, because it hardly matters what they think, Goku. You…"

I'm just smiling and listening to him, but he stops suddenly.

"Excuse me. I suppose I'm a bit out of line; after all, you're old enough to have realized such things on your own now."

"S'Okay. I miss havin' ya' around to tell me that stuff's no big deal." Sanzo never says anything about that kinda' stuff, and if he does, it's always been to tell me to suck it up. Gojyo always wants to act like that's not happening at all. I can always count on Hakkai to tell me what I need to hear, but in a nice way that doesn't make me feel dumb, and I miss that.

"Ah haha, well never-the-less, I won't test your patience with my tedious life lessons."

I go back to eating, "You havin' fun at school?"

"Ah, not as much as one would expect."

"Workin' a lot?"

"You could say that. I do a good deal of studying, and, of course, I have to work to support myself, but I suppose I'm experiencing a different kind of enjoyment."

That's what he went away for in the first place, I remember. 'Cause he wanted something really different from how he was living; Sanzo told me he was bored, and he was sick of fighting and killing, and having nothing, being nobody and keeping house, and screwing around with Gojyo, 'trying to keep him in line'. That's what Sanzo said anyway, but I didn't get it at the time, 'cause I couldn't imagine Hakkai living any other way, then later, I realized he only lived that way because of the stuff that happened to him before we met him, and he _couldn't_ do anything else. Everything is different now though—_he's_ different—and he can go do what he wants, so he should.

It makes me think about my life, and the stuff I want to do, some day. Not just traveling the world, but other things. Like maybe finding a place outside the temple where I can live, not totally away from Sanzo, but in a house where I can do whatever I feel like, and maybe I can even get a girl, if I wanna', one that cooks really good and likes to have fun—somebody like Dai—and some day, maybe it'd be cool to have all the stuff Hakkai's trying to find.

I grin at him, "Maybe I'll go to school someday. Whaty'dya' think?"

"I can't see why not."

He always believes in me, never putting me down or telling me I'm too stupid, the way Gojyo would, or saying 'do what you want, 'cause I don't care', like Sanzo does. I don't mind them being that way, but it reminds me of how much I miss Hakkai.

"I dunno'. Maybe you should just come back here an' teach me everything you know when you're done at college."

"I appreciate that you consider me so astute. I suppose I'll see what I can do."

"It'd be good ta' know some stuff. 'Sides, I miss you teaching me things. You're good at that. Are ya' gonna' be a teacher again sometime soon?"

"Perhaps. When I've finished my degree..."

"Whatever ya' do, ya' need to come see us more—one year's way too long, 'Kai."

"You're right, I suppose. I apologize, Goku, but the time got away from me a bit, and this year went by rather quickly, but…depending on how things go during this visit, I may try to come back a touch more often, from now on."

That makes me think again that he's got a real specific reason for being here now, and I'd have to be pretty dumb to not know what it is. It's hard to believe Gojyo's so messed up that Sanzo actually sent for Hakkai, but I guess, thinking about the stupid crap he's been doing lately, I'm not that surprised. I don't know what his problem is, but Sanzo must know more about it than I do. The thing is though, even if both of us can tell something's up—even if we knew _what_ it is that's wrong—I know that neither of us know what to do with him, 'cause we both tried, and we didn't know how to handle him. Sanzo just gets pissed off and yells at him. I push him too much and he gets annoyed with me.

I figure, at this point, whatever it is that's wrong, Hakkai's probably the only one who knows how to deal with it. Heck, the two of us couldn't even get him to stick around here after he got hurt.

_'He's just selfish.'_ That's what Sanzo said, after Gojyo walked out of here. _'He does whatever the fuck he wants, all the time, and he doesn't care what anyone else thinks, or how they feel.'_

At the time, that made sense to me: Gojyo did seem really, really selfish, strolling outta' here, all beat to hell, pretending not to get why we were so worried about him. I couldn't help thinking he was a selfish prick that day.

I realize I've been frowning down at my rice a long time, and finally, I look up at Hakkai again, "You…seen Gojyo yet?"

Hakkai looks startled, and he takes a sec to answer, "Well, yes, of course I've seen Gojyo."

That's the whole reason he's here, I know. Hakkai's friends with me and Sanzo too, and he came up here to see us today, because we're friends, but we're not Gojyo.

"How's he seem?"

Hakkai studies me.

I feel kinda' like I'm waiting on a doctor to tell me about how a patient's doing, but if Hakkai says something's up, then that ends the debate forever.

"He seemed well enough."

I stare at him, disbelieving. He didn't think Gojyo was acting weird? Why? Did I make it up in my head—all of it? No, no. Sanzo acts like something was up with him too. Maybe we're both imagining things. I don't see how that's possible.

"Really? Nothin' seemed wrong with him?"

"Not particularly. Why? Has he been out of sorts?"

I open my mouth to tell him everything about how he's been acting all messed up for the last six months, 'cause I'm sure that, if Hakkai knew all that, he'd think something was wrong too.

Before I can even get started, Sanzo walks in, snorting, "Out of sorts. That's one way to put it."

We both stare up at him. Even with the scars he got on our journey to India, he looks sophisticated and in control, even more than he used to. I know he gets a ton of respect from all the monks now, after we stopped the revival and reversed the minus wave, and this is totally his realm now. Sanzo's almost like a king, I think. Nothing happens around here he doesn't know about, and everybody always listens to him.

I smile up at him, "Sanzo! Come an' sit down with us."

Hakkai gets up to shake his hand, smiling brightly, "Good morning, Sanzo. Are you joining us for breakfast?"

Sanzo sits at the head of the table, "I ate. But my attendant told me you were here. Jeep's not with you, so I assume you arrived yesterday at some point."

"That's right: yesterday morning." Hakkai goes back to eating too. "It's good to see you. You look almost stately these day. I hope the weather's been all right, this past summer."

I glance out the window. It's kinda' misty, but it's not rainy. I don't think rain bothers either of them as much as it used to, but I know it still bothers Sanzo a little.

"It hasn't been unbearable. I guess _you're_ doing all right."

"I get along nicely, though, I must admit, I do miss home…and all of you as well."

"Hn. There's nothing to miss around here, believe me. It's the same pain-in-the ass bullshit it's always been."

I listen to them, wondering how long they're gonna' talk about the weather and other dumb crap that's not important. If Sanzo really called Hakkai here, there's gotta' be other, more important stuff they want to talk about.

Suddenly, Hakkai turns serious. "Truth be told, Sanzo, I've been agonizing over your letter for days now—it was quite compelling—but I do wish you'd been a bit more direct in your message."

Instead of answering him, Sanzo suddenly looks at me, and we stare at each other a moment or two. I have no idea what he said in his letter, but I can almost guess.

"How long are you staying, Hakkai?"

"I don't know exactly. I came intending to stay a week, but I'll be here for as long as I think I should."

"I don't think you'll have to stay very long. I'm not sure why you came in the first place."

That's a dumb thing to say, but I know Sanzo's like that, so I just wait.

"Oh, because you told me to, don't you remember?"

"I suggested it."

"You didn't tell me why."

"I think it should be obvious. Or it will be."

"Is that so?"

I think so too.

I also think there's no way they're gonna' get into the honest details as long as I'm around, and I've already had enough breakfast to last me a little while. I stand up, "I gotta' go."

Hakkai frowns at me with raised eyebrows, "I thought you didn't have class for another hour or two, and I see you've only had four bowls of rice."

"Goku." Sanzo looks at me too, "Sit down. You're not a kid anymore."

"Yeah, but maybe ya' need ta' talk in private."  
Sanzo shakes his head.

I stay standing. I'm not sure I want to hear what he has to say to Hakkai, 'cause it could be really bad. Not that he'd tell Hakkai anything scary, or that he'll bust a lot on Gojyo to Hakkai's face, not when Goj is acting so freaky, 'cause we all know what Hakkai would do if he did trash Gojyo in front of him.

…Well, maybe I dunno' exactly what Hakkai would do, but I know he wouldn't let that fly. Not for a second.

"We don't have all day." Sanzo says impatiently.

So I sit down again, not knowing what else to do.

There's a long pause then, like no one knows where to start, then Hakkai ventures to say, "Sanzo. I for one would like to discuss what you wrote to me in your most recent letter."

"The letter." Sanzo sniffs. I get the sense he's embarrassed because he got involved at all, and I'm pretty surprised to find out he wrote a letter in the first place. "I don't know what there is to discuss."

"More to the point: Gojyo."

"That. I wouldn't lose any sleep over that, Hakkai."

I wonder what he's doing. If he wrote to Hakkai, he must actually be worried, and now it looks like he's going to downplay that as much as he can. I guess it's not really like him to act worried about Gojyo.

"I don't intend to lose sleep, by any means, though I do appreciate your concern." Hakkai's smiling brightly, but his voice is _dripping_ with sarcasm, a sure sign that he's annoyed, "What you said sounded rather urgent, so I came at once."

"Then what do you need me to explain it to you for? You can see how stupid he's being for yourself, can't you?"

It's true, 'cause if Hakkai knows Gojyo even a little bit as good as I think he does, it was the first thing he noticed when they saw each other, but he told me he didn't notice Gojyo acting weird. Would he have some reason to lie to me about that? It's not like I can't see how Gojyo is acting.

Maybe Hakkai just doesn't want me to worry until he really knows there's a reason to—he's like that.

"Well, I don't know. I don't think he's being stupid, necessarily, though he does seem to be behaving strangely. Perhaps if you'd explain why you wrote what you did…"

"Strange doesn't even begin to cover it. That idiot is completely off the reservation."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"What it sounds like it means. The guy snapped."

I guess Sanzo really thinks that. Maybe that's what he would have told me if I'd pushed him.

Hakkai pauses, and his face turns pretty dark, his eyes like storm clouds, and it's been a while since I saw him so mad, so my hair stands on end, but his voice stays completely calm. "I see. What, may I ask, is your basis for that statement?"

"Don't get mad at _me_, Hakkai. I'm just the messenger."

"I insist upon knowing why you think such a thing, Sanzo."

"Because." Sanzo takes a long, soothing drag on his cigarette, "He purposely tried to get himself killed."

My breath hitches. "Really? Ya' think…that's what he was doin'?"

"Excuse me?" Hakkai looks angrier than ever.

Sanzo nods, grimly, "I asked him and Goku to go do something for me—something dangerous—Goku was away, so the Kappa went by himself. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen."

"How dangerous?"

"Very. I found him outside the temple gates, half-dead. Crazy bastard dragged himself back here, but I don't know why he bothered, since it's obvious he went out there alone because he wanted to die."

My heart is pounding a little. Is that really the answer? I mean, I thought it myself, back when it happened, but I told myself that couldn't be right. Did Sanzo actually think that? He never said it to me that way, even though he was calling it a 'suicide mission'. I thought that was just a figure of speech. Any time I tried to ask him about it, he shook his head and said 'Gojyo's a fucking idiot'.

So was that what Sanzo meant when he told me he's got no future, that he'd be lucky to live just a few more years?

_He purposely tried to get killed._

I stand up, "But wait a minute."

Sanzo looks at me, seriously, "If you have something to say, say it, but do not run right to his house and ask him if I'm right."

I do want to. I want to skip class and go right now and demand to know if what Sanzo thinks is true. I want to ask him if that's why he's been so weird, and why he's so upset that he'd do something so crazy.

"Sanzo…how'dya' know if that's true? I mean, that's pretty…intense…"

Hakkai doesn't say anything. He's got his hands clasped on the table and is staring down at them, thoughtfully.

Sanzo pours more tea for himself. "I don't _know_ for certain. But I do know if you go and start asking him questions, it won't help the situation. Discretion is of the utmost importance…"

"I agree with Goku." Hakkai says at last. "That seems highly unlikely to me. Gojyo's reckless that way, you know that."

"It was a suicide mission, Hakkai. He's stupid, but even he isn't _that_ stupid. He knew that if he went out there alone, he wasn't coming back."

"No. I disagree. If he thought he wasn't coming back, he wouldn't have."

"Yeah, well, that isn't the only stupid thing he's done lately. After we got him back here, he decided to walk his dumb ass home, even though he could barely keep from passing out. How's that for self-destructive?"

Those words make me feel helpless and afraid. I sit down, slowly, "Yeah…he did…do that…" I think again about how he climbed on the roof, drunk as hell, and joked with me about jumping. Sanzo could be right. Should I tell them about that?

"Self-destructive, possibly. But suicidal? I simply fail to see how you can jump to such a conclusion."

"All right, so maybe he isn't full-on suicidal—I'm sure he's not home hanging himself as we speak—but he's got some kind of death wish."

"Sanzo-"

"You don't have to believe me, Hakkai. You don't have to listen, if you don't want to. Go back to school, for all I care, and like I said, don't lose sleep over it. It's none of my business what you do, and it's none of my business what happens to him. I just thought you'd want to know."

Hakkai sighs, "I appreciate that. Truly. I'm afraid I'm confused, that's all, and distressed as well."

"Maybe if that weren't the only thing, I'd think differently, but he's got a thousand different issues, and he acts unbelievably depressed. It's annoying. Especially since he's dragging Goku into it with him."

My face gets a little hot, "He's not."

They both look at me a moment.

"I don't understand." Hakkai admits.

"He's all worked up about it, always asking questions and worrying and paying for that moron's food."

"Yeah, but that's 'cause he's broke, an' he smells weird. Not 'cause I think he's gonna' kill himself."

Sanzo shrugs. "You're worried. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you paying for his bullshit."

"What am I supposed ta' do? Just _stop_? Ya' want me to _not care_?"

"Whatever he gets you into, it seems like it'll come back to me, at some point."

Hakkai's barely listening to us. He murmurs, almost to himself, "I noticed he seems to be more or less out of money."

"More or less." Sanzo snorts. "I have no idea what the hell he's living off."

Something about the way he says that makes me think he knows exactly what Gojyo's living off."

Hakkai looks troubled, "Yes, I see. Well, I had heard he's not gambling like he used to, but I can't imagine where he's getting his money, what little he does have."

"What'dya' think he's living off?" I ask him.

They're both quiet a while, and I wait impatiently. Besides gambling and doing work for Sanzo, I have no idea where Gojyo could be getting money. I thought the fact that he doesn't have any had to do with the fact that he's not doing either of those things. I mean, I still figured he was gambling, since he still goes out all the time. I guess though…the times I've gone out with him, I haven't seen him gamble with anybody.

The silence goes on until I feel like they just don't want to say what they're thinking.

Finally, Hakkai says, "You must have thought I could do something about it, correct? Otherwise, you wouldn't have taken the time to tell me to come."

"I have no idea. But, I guess…I thought you might be able to at least get to the bottom of it."

"So then. I take it he won't talk to either of you about this."

"Why would he?" Sanzo looks at me, "I don't know what he's told Goku—"

"Nothin'." I mutter. "He won't tell me freakin' nothin'."

"—I don't have time to sort out his problems; I'm not his goddamn therapist. Anyway, when it comes to dealing with the two of us, he's dead set on acting like everything is normal—it's so annoying—I wouldn't be getting involved at all, except Goku keeps bugging me about it, and like I said, I don't have time to try to fix it, and even if I did, he doesn't trust me."

"Not like he trusts you." I add.

They're quiet again.

I shift, uncomfortably and wait. Gojyo can't be suicidal. That just isn't right—Sanzo has to be wrong.

"You seem quite concerned, Sanzo. I have to say, that's very unlike you."

"I'm not concerned. Bastard Gojyo is living his life, and he can do whatever the hell he wants, but…"

There's another really long pause.

Suddenly, Hakkai sits up straight and gives him a knowing look, "I see. There's something else then that's caught your interest."

Sanzo clicks his tongue, like he does when he's annoyed, "_Maybe_. I don't want to be hasty."

His voice is so deadly serious, it freaks me out.

I guess it bothers Hakkai too, 'cause he looks worried suddenly, "What is it?"

"Hmph. I thought he'd tell you, but apparently not. Not yet."

"What're ya' talkin' about?" I ask. "The rumors?"

"What rumors?" Hakkai demands.

Sanzo looks annoyed as he goes on, "He'll tell you himself, eventually. I can't say."

"What did he do?" Hakkai's voice is tight.

I'm getting a tightness in my chest too. Sanzo's talking like something really serious is going on, something worse than being drunk and not taking good care of himself. It's gotta' be the reason he sent for Hakkai.

"I already told you, he's going to tell you himself, if you give him time. As long as you're here long enough…"

"I intend to be here as long as I need to be."

"That means missing school."

"I know that." Hakkai's voice stays patient, but it's a little strained. "I'll miss the rest of the semester, if I must. I only wish you'd tell me what it is you're referring to. Please."

"Hn." Sanzo puts his cigarette out in the ashtray, "If I did that, it would defeat the purpose of you coming here."

I raise my eyebrow at him, "It would? How?"

But Hakkai says, "I see. You mean to say that my knowing what's happening and confronting the issue head-on won't have any affect. He has to tell me himself."

"It's the only way I can think of. Right now, if I told you what I've heard, and what I _think_ is going on, and you go home and yell at him, he'll shut you out and be worse off than ever. _I_ don't particularly care, but I know you and Goku do."

I definitely care a lot. And I know Hakkai cares. I think even Sanzo cares. I just don't really get what's going on. I heard about the rumors, but I have no idea what people are saying about Gojyo, or what he did, or what he's doing, or whatever, but I want to find out as soon as I can; still, I know Sanzo's right. Gojyo won't tell me anything, probably because he's stuck on the idea that I'm eighteen years old, and he's totally not gonna' say anything to Sanzo. Hakkai's the only one he'll tell personal stuff to, so we have to wait for that.

_Waiting's really, really hard._

Will it be enough?

I hope that, whatever's wrong, nothing bad happens to him in the meantime.

A little after the conversation ends, I get up to go to class, but I tell Hakkai that I wanna' hang out with him some more, and he promises to wait a few hours for me to finish, and then I can go home with him. In the meantime, he's just going to chill out with Sanzo.

The whole time I'm teaching, I can't concentrate. I'm really worried now—even more worried than before—and I keep trying to come up with answers by myself, but I can't think of anything that makes any sense. I don't know if that's because I'm not too creative, or if it's because I'm naïve, or just because I don't want to think anything bad about Gojyo.

What could he be doing that would spook Sanzo? What could he be doing that would spook Sanzo _and_ get strangers talking? What could be so serious that it would make its way all the way up here, so that Kumo and a bunch of other monks, including Sanzo would hear about it?

Something illegal. That's all I can figure out.

But what? And how bad?

Gojyo's not a bad guy. He's always acted like he is, but I've been able to see through that since the very beginning. He's got an honest face, but I'm not dumb enough anymore to believe that's the reason he's not bad. Over the years though, I've _seen_ it, 'cause I've never watched him do anything really bad—being a flirt and kinda' a cheater don't make somebody a bad person. Like Sanzo said a long time ago, bad stuff isn't limited to bad people, so sometimes good people do bad stuff, 'cause they have to, or 'cause they get mixed up, or emotional.

I don't know if Gojyo's a _good_ guy either, I just know he ain't bad. I can't imagine him doing anything really bad.

Then again, I don't know much about his life before he met us. I probably know less about his life than I know about Sanzo's or Hakkai's, 'cause their lives are pretty clear, and his is sorta' this gray area nobody knows about, 'cause he never says anything about it. All I know is, his mom used to beat him up, and then she tried to kill him, but his brother saved him, and then left him alone. He grew up on the streets. And that's the gray area.

I don't know what growin' up on the streets really means, but I don't think it's exactly like Sanzo's life, where he wandered alone from the time his master died until he came here. I think there's a lot of stuff that goes with 'growin' up on the streets' that I wouldn't even think of. Picking pockets is something he's at least admitted to, once or twice, and the other night he told me he used to rob convenience stores, but even that was a shock at the time.

It all makes me realize that, even though I don't think Gojyo's a bad guy—cause he's _not—_there's probably a lot of stuff he did as a kid that wasn't right.

He did that stuff to survive though, right? I can forgive that.

Now though…he shouldn't have to do anything like steal someone's wallet or rob a convenience store; he doesn't need to anymore.

So what the heck is he doing?

Sanzo is the only one of us who knows, but he won't say.

I could ask around and probably find out… I'm scared to.

When my class is over, I find Hakkai, and we say goodbye to Sanzo and start walking back down to Gojyo's house.

We go side by side, and we're quiet. I wish I could think of something good to say. I wish I could tell him not to worry, but I don't know how.

"Goku." Hakkai breaks the silence himself, in a soft, murmuring voice. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What's up?" I turn to him as we go along. He seems so small now…so short and almost fragile. I remember how he always seemed so tall and grown up and smart to me.

"Earlier, you expressed some concern over Gojyo, so I take it he's been acting strange in ways outside of the things Sanzo described. I would just like to hear your opinion on the situation."

"You don't think he's been acting weird?"  
"No, it's not that. I think his behavior has been a bit off, but he's insistent on being fine…"

"Yeah. So maybe he is."

"Maybe. Gojyo's not one to admit to being in distress."

"None of us are."

"That's true." Hakkai chuckles. There's another long moment of silence, "Sanzo seems to think that he's…doing much worse than he seems to be."

"I know, and I could see that." I think again about telling him about what Gojyo did the other night when he was drunk. "Sanzo's not totally wrong about how Goj is actin', but I don't think he's nuts or nothing like that, though."

"Still, Sanzo's account of everything seems to go against your opinion."

I sigh a little, "He's been doin' some way dumb stuff lately, but I don't think he's actually tryin' ta' hurt himself—if he wanted to do that, he'd just…do it, right?—I think he's not really thinking about what he's doin', or about what could happen. Or maybe, he's like, flirting with disaster, or somethin'. Maybe he doesn't really care what happens to him, but I don't think he's tryin' ta' die."

"Has he confided anything in you?"

I shake my head, "Nothin'. But…I think he's bored. An' I think he's stuck."

"Stuck." Hakkai echoes, strangely. "That does seem to be the best way to sum it up."

He waits a moment. "Don't you know anything regarding the rumors Sanzo was talking about?"

"Nuh-uh. Sanzo wouldn't tell me anything about what he heard, and I guess I ain't in the loop. I have no idea what he's been doin'…but I haven't seen him play cards or nothin' like that in forever. I didn't think much of that, but if he ain't playin' cards, that explains why he's broke… I dunno'. None of it makes sense to me."

"No. Me neither."

"D'ya' think he'll tell ya' what's goin' on?"

"Yes." He sounds pretty confident. "I'm sure that if I confront him, he'll confide in me, at some point. But, it's as Sanzo said. This is a delicate situation, and discretion is of the utmost importance."

Guess that means I should just try an' stay out of it. Discretion isn't my strong suit.

It's not a very long walk to their house, and when we get there, Hakkai tells me to try to keep it down, and we almost sneak inside. Gojyo's all passed out on the couch still, with Jeep curled up on him, and he seems almost restless, twitching and mumbling in his sleep.

"Did he drink a lot last night?" I whisper at Hakkai, as we sneak into the kitchen.

Hakkai's voice is even quieter than mine, "Not as much as he could have."

"He's been drinkin' a ton lately." I say, without thinking about it, "He sleeps all day an' drinks all night long."

Hakkai frowns back at me, but doesn't say anything.

"He an alcoholic?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Obviously it's something else."

"Like depression?" I look over at Gojyo again, but he's not waking up, and even though Jeep's lifted his head to look at us, he's staying where he is too, not making even a peep.

Hakkai doesn't answer that either. He opens the nearest cupboard and looks inside, thoughtfully, "Oh, yes. I had almost forgotten… There's no food here."

"_Still_ no food?"

"Still? I take it that's an ongoing thing then, and not a temporary result of lack of funding, as I was led to believe yesterday."

I shrug. I can't remember the last time Gojyo had any food in his place. "Looks like ya' cleaned up in here, a little."

"There's still a lot to do. Well, in any case, I'll make some coffee, and then we can catch up a bit."

The coffee brews quick, and then I sit there with Hakkai for what feels like an hour, chilling at the table, talking and talking about life—my life, his life, life in general. I tell him a little bit about Dai, and he says he's real happy for me, and he doesn't tease me or push me about it, so I'm way more comfortable telling him about her than I was telling Gojyo. He talks about school a while, and it seems like he's really doing good. Then we just talk about old times and re-tell old stories about the journey or whatever, and laugh. We try to stay quiet, but it's hard, and most of the time, I'm having so much fun talking to Hakkai, laughing at his jokes and telling my own, I don't always remember to keep it down.

In a while, Gojyo wanders into the kitchen, limping a little, yawning and rubbing his face, tiredly, with Jeep riding on his shoulder. He doesn't look _too_ hung over, so I figure Hakkai probably didn't let him get totally out of control last night.

"Mornin'" I say cheerfully. "Or, maybe good afternoon, I dunno'."

"Nn. Hey, kid." He barely even glances at me, but he does crack a really faint smile.

Hakkai stands up and takes him a cup of coffee, and I notice how serious his face is, not smiling or nothing, as he asks, "Did you sleep all right?"

"Yeah. I slept great." He slouches into a chair with his coffee and downs about half of it right away.

"Do your injuries hurt, or are they stiff at all?"

Gojyo shakes his head.

"I noticed yesterday that you're limping."

"Twisted my ankle." Gojyo mutters.

I think it's a lie, and Hakkai must too. He cocks his eyebrows at him, "Is that really the reason, Gojyo?"

Goj nods.

Hakkai and me exchange a look, but he just says, "Well, in any case, you may remember there's no food around here, or, naturally, I'd have prepared lunch by now. However, Goku and I were just discussing the idea of going into town to eat, and then, perhaps, we can stock up on some groceries on the way back, seeing how we neglected to do so yesterday."

Gojyo's still rubbing the bridge of his nose like his head hurts, "Whatever, guys. I don't have any money."

"I'm buyin' lunch." I tell him right away, smiling as big as I can.

Finally, Gojyo hesitates and looks up at Hakkai, who's lingering right beside him instead of sitting down again, "Yo. What's the world come to when the _monkey_ buys everybody lunch?"

"It is quite a change."

Gojyo grumbles, "Change." I wait for him to laugh and joke about it, like he normally would, but he just coughs a little, then lights up a cigarette. After a couple puffs, he smirks at me, but it's not the right kind of smirk; it looks fake to me. "Alright. I'm in."

Walking into town is weird, and everything after that is weird too. For the rest of the day, everything feels and seems weird. Hakkai and Gojyo walk next to each other, like I expect them to, and they talk to each other, like normal, but the things they say feel forced. They start out with the weather –the whole time I've known them, I've never heard them discuss the weather the way they're discussing it now—going on and on about it, trying to predict it, talking about what it was like last month, and then last year, and what it might be like next year, and if it's any different where Hakkai is, or if he's not really _that_ far away. They go on and on about it like there's nothing better to talk about, almost like they don't know each other at all. When that's finally over, Gojyo rambles on a while about stuff that's happened in town lately like 'Oh, so and so got mugged the other night, and this other chick totally got raped and stabbed, but they don't know who did it', and it's so boring and unimportant, I totally expect Hakkai to interrupt him and start talking about something else, but he never does. Instead he says, "My, crime rates really seem to be on the rise here."

"What? Oh." Gojyo rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah…I guess… It's probably just because Loki's rebuilding the gang."

"Who's Loki?" I ask.

Gojyo mutters something, then Hakkai smiles at me, "Loki is a psychosocial, murderous, egotistical, old man who runs a two-bit gang full of dull-witted, but none-the-less brutal young men who don't know any better than to commit crime in order to make a living."

Gojyo gives him a long look.

Hakkai raises his eyebrows at him, "Am I wrong?"

"No. You're totally right."

Then there's some awkward silence. Normally, their silences aren't awkward. Normally, their silences give me this sense that they're just happy not saying anything at the moment, and that they're just content to be walking down the road, side by side, on a nice day. Today, the silence feels completely awkward, like they both wish there was something else they could say—something real specific—but for some reason, they just can't start that conversation.

Hakkai said he was going to confront Gojyo about the way he's been acting, and both he and Sanzo seem really sure Gojyo will probably tell him something important, eventually. Maybe they're waiting for that. Maybe they're wishing I weren't with them so they could start talking about all their serious stuff. I don't know though. It doesn't feel that way to me. To me it feels like they're holding back because they're scared. I can smell nervousness and stress on both of them.

In a moment, Hakkai turns to me, smiling like normal, "Do you know where you want to eat?"

"Musashi's, maybe."

"Damn, not that place." Gojyo grumbles. "Why do you always want to go there?"

"It's nice."

"Their menu sucks and their waitresses are all old."

I give him a long, confused look, and so does Hakkai. He beats me to it asking, "What are you talking about? You've always liked Musashi's."

Gojyo coughs into his sleeve before he can answer, "I'm just tired of it. The kid _always_ wants to eat there."

"The kid always pays too." I tell him. "Maybe if ya' wanna' pick where we eat ya' should bring some money, every now and then."

Hakkai chuckles, but Gojyo glares at me so angrily, I expect him to scream at me. "Fine." He snaps. "Fuckin' Musashi's, smart ass."

He's not even kidding, just like I wasn't even kidding, and Hakkai must realize that, suddenly, because he stops laughing, and we walk the rest of the way in silence.

Musashi's is nice, and I can't figure out why Gojyo doesn't wanna' eat there. It's kinda' expensive, but he's not paying, and their food is to die for, so what's he got to complain about? The waitresses aren't _that_ old. The head waitress is probably not even forty yet, and I don't know when age on a woman started mattering to him. The décor is nice. The music is peaceful. Almost no one is there. I really don't get what the problem is.

Anyway, he doesn't even complain about it when we sit down, he just picks up his menu and starts looking around the room. Like _really_ looking. Like he thinks he's gonna' see somebody he knows, and it's pretty obvious that's what he's doing.

Hakkai and me watch him a while before Hakkai calls him on it, "Is there someone you'd rather not run into in here?"

Gojyo sighs and turns to the menu, "No. Well. Maybe."

"Like who?"

It takes him a sec to decide how to answer, then he grins up, devilishly, "The other woman I've been cheating on you with."

Hakkai laughs a little, but it sounds forced, and then he doesn't even bother to say anything back—no joke, no jab, no questions, nothing. We all wind up being quiet until the waitress comes.

Gojyo tries to order a beer, but Hakkai won't let him, and that makes everything even more awkward than before.

"Since when do you get to say when I do or don't order a beer?"

"Seeing how it's only just a bit past noon, I don't think a beer is exactly appropriate. In fact, it looks frighteningly like alcoholism."

"How is that your business?"

Hakkai looks the menu over calmly, "It just is."

Gojyo sits back in his chair, looking annoyed as the waitress brings him some orange juice. "Oj _again, _'Kai?"

"It's good for you."

I hear Gojyo bitching about it under his breath, but then they're quiet.

The silence feels pretty heavy, so I try to strike up a conversation, but it doesn't take me very long to kind of get why they were having trouble with making conversation earlier. What is there to talk about? We already heard all about Hakkai's school life. I've already talked all about my students and Dai, and we're all up to date on what Sanzo's been doing. The only thing that's left is to try to talk to Gojyo about his life, and that's probably not a very good idea right now, since I get the feeling that the answer to every single question either of us ask is going to be either a lie or just something we really don't want to hear. So there's nothing but awkward, heavy silence until our food comes, and then we eat quietly.

"Is it weird being back?" I ask, figuring that's about as safe a question as I can come up with right now.

Hakkai takes a bite of noodles before answering, and then takes his time chewing; I notice Gojyo staring at him through the haze of his cigarette, intently. Maybe it's not as safe a question as I thought. "No." He says at last. "The town is exactly the way I left it."

But not _everything_ is the way he left it.

I go back to eating.

"Stuff's different." Gojyo decides. "You just ain't been here long enough to notice it yet."

"How so?"

He shrugs. "I mean, it's not like time stood still just 'cause you went away. Lot's of things have changed, even if it's only a little."

"Well, by saying things are exactly how I left them, I wasn't meaning to insinuate that absolutely _nothing_ has changed." He lifts his eyes to meet Gojyo's gaze for a moment or two. "Obviously _some_ things are very different."

"That's not what you said a second ago."

"I said the town is the way I left it."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, there are no new buildings, none of the old ones have been ripped down, the economy hasn't moved, and most the occupants are familiar. Individual change is a different matter. Like Goku buying everyone lunch." He smiles over at me.

I jump on the chance to change the subject, "I don't make a lotta' money—I'm lucky I make _any _money, but Sanzo says that I'm not a real member of the temple, so they hafta' pay me ta' train their acolytes. Anyway, I don't have a lot ta' spend on, so it just sorta' builds up, so I wind up with a lotta' money."

"Oh, I understand. Perhaps you should find something to invest in."

"Invest? Like what?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Then again…you do enjoy eating, so perhaps it's best that you have that money saved away for days when you feel like dining out."

"Your girlfriend." Gojyo snorts. "That's what you should spend your money on."

"Dai's not really my girlfriend."

"Trust me, if you wanna' get in her pants, you're gonna' have to spend some money."

"I'm not really tryin' ta' get in her pants." I feel my face turn red.

"You should be."

"There's no rush." Hakkai says calmly, taking another bite of his lo mein.

"As if. The kid's twenty-five and he's never been fucked. He's not getting any younger. You got a lot of skirt-chasing to catch up on, chimpy, and the sooner you nail this girl, the sooner you can get to it."

Hakkai frowns. "Not everyone is looking to get into bed with as many women as they can find, you know."

"I'm just saying he could use a little experience."

"I don't think there's any rush."

"Hey, you're not really the expert on-"

"Neither are you."

"I didn't even finish what I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter. Whatever it was, I highly doubt you're the expert on any of it. Unless you were going to say 'on being indelicate', because you could potentially be the expert on that."

"What the fuck, man? I'm just giving the kid a little advice."

"Yes, of course. I'm merely attempting to counterbalance your advice with a little bit of sense."

Gojyo glares at Hakkai a while, and Hakkai just smiles back at him. I'm starting to feel like, no matter what they say to each other, they're just a little bit out of sync. Like, they aren't arguing or anything, but stuff that would normally be funny and light is turning out to be way too serious, and none of their jokes are hitting the mark. In a way, it's almost like they don't remember how to act toward each other.

"You know-"

"I'm just teasing you, Gojyo."

Gojyo doesn't look like he believes that, but he doesn't get a chance to say so, 'cause this weird guy appears out of nowhere and grabs him by the shoulder, and Gojyo whips his head around, like the guy really scared the crap out of him, and stares up at him. "W-what's up?"

The guy doesn't say a word. He just drops a little, white piece of paper on the table in front of Gojyo and walks away.

"Who the heck was that?" I ask when he's gone. I definitely don't recognize the guy: he's just some really big, flat-faced dude with dead eyes.

Hakkai reaches for the paper, but Gojyo snatches it up really fast, biting his cigarette as he looks it over, and to me he looks really, really worried, like that paper is seriously bad news.

"What does it say?" Hakkai murmurs. "Gojyo?"

"Nothing." He crumples the paper up and stuffs it into his pocket.

Neither of us are buying that.

"Did'ja' know that guy?"

"Nope."

"He behaved as if he knows you though. You're sure you've never met before?"

"Naw, no way. I've never seen that asshole in my life. Hey, are we ready to go yet? I'm ready to get going."

"Aren't you going to finish eating?"

He's barely touched anything on his plate, but I knew he wouldn't, and I didn't say nothing because he always does that. I take him somewhere and pay for his meal, and he never finishes it. Most of the time, he barely even eats at all.

"I'm full." Gojyo stands up and pulls his jacket on.

"But you hardly ate a thing."

He's already walking away. He goes outside and paces around the front door before sitting down on a bench.

Hakkai and me give each other long, confused looks. "What on earth?"

I shrug, shoveling up another mouthful of food. "He never eats."

"Have you ever seen that man before, Goku?"

"No, I don't think so. He's all freaked out about him for some reason."

He frowns down at his noodles.

"Anyway, what's up with you guys? Did'ja' have an argument yesterday?"

"Oh, no, not as such. After my discussion with Sanzo this morning, I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss for what I should say to him, that's all."

"Would it help if I wasn't around?"

"I don't think it would make any difference at all, Goku. I'm concerned about how he's going to react, regardless of who's around. In any case, I think I'll step out and have a word with him, see if I can't convince him to come back and sit with us while we finish our meals."

"'Kay." He follows after Gojyo, and I watch through the glass as he goes and stands over him. They talk a little while, but it doesn't look like they get anywhere, from where I'm sitting. Gojyo looks like he's being a typical, flippant, little liar. I can almost hear him making up some dumb excuse about how the music in here was driving him crazy or how the food's making him feel sick, and I can see from Hakkai's expression that he's not buying it. I watch him get more and more impatient, and then, finally, he gets Gojyo by the arm, pulls him up, and brings him back inside. When they get back to our table, Hakkai is smiling, but it's just the way Gojyo's been smiling lately: completely fake.

We go to the market after we leave Musashi's, and they're just as out of sync there as they've been everywhere else, still talking to each other about nothing, then talking to me when they run out of nothing to talk about, but I decide I'm not going to worry about it. Hakkai says it's because of the things Sanzo told him, and that makes sense. I figure, eventually, they'll sit down and have a long, serious conversation, and then everything will get straightened out. That's why Sanzo told Hakkai to come back here in the first place, isn't it? Because he knew Hakkai could fix whatever is wrong, and I know it too. Whatever's going on with Gojyo, whatever reason he has for being so out of control, and for going on that mission alone, and for ignoring his own health, and for climbing up on casinos, and for sleeping all day, then drinking all night, not eating, never having money, fake smiling—all of it—I know Hakkai will figure it out somehow. He'll sit him down when I'm not around, and he'll say 'I'd like to know what in the world is going on with you', and Gojyo will just tell him, and then they'll work it out, and things will go back to normal. It has to work out that way, because I can't imagine any problem being so big that Hakkai can't settle it. He's too good at problem-solving, and he cares too much about Gojyo, and Gojyo trusts and respects him way more than he trusts or respects anyone else.

It's all gonna' be normal again soon, so I try to act as normal as I can while we're grocery shopping.

"I don't have any money." Gojyo reminds Hakkai, as we walk into the marketplace.

"Yes, yes, I remember. You don't have to keep telling me that."

"Just sayin'. Whatever you get in here, you hafta' pay for."

"I think that's better than going the rest of the week with no food in the house, don't you?"

"I guess I don't, since that _was_ the plan, before you showed up yesterday." Gojyo grins, like it's a joke.

Hakkai sounds dead serious, "We can't all stop eating on a whim."

Gojyo tries to laugh for a sec, then when he realizes Hakkai's not kidding, we go back to awkward silence, and this time, it's so awkward, and it goes on for so long, that when Hakkai walks away to look at something on a pastry cart, Gojyo doesn't follow him, just hangs back smoking.

I hesitate next to him. I desperately want to say something, I just don't know _what_ I can say; but I think I have a better idea of how off he's been than even Hakkai does right now, so maybe I'm the only one who might be able to say something to him.

I look at him, and he's just staring off in the distance. He doesn't look bothered or worried or unhappy, but I can smell all those things on him.

I wonder if he's actually suicidal, like Sanzo said. He doesn't seem like he is. If I ask him about it, what will he tell me?

_No. Sanzo didn't want me ta' do that. Like he said, it's only gonna' make stuff worse if Gojyo knows we're talkin' about stuff like that._

Still, I think I need to say _something_ to him about how he's acting today.

I'm quiet when I ask, "Aren't you happy to see him?"

Gojyo turns to me, eyes a little wide."'Kai?"

"Who else?"

"Hell yeah, monkey. Way happy. Don't I seem happy to see 'Kai?"

"Not really."

He sighs, rubs his forehead tiredly, "It's just a weird day. It wasn't like this yesterday."

At least he's not denying that stuff's weird. "What's weird about it?"

"I dunno' how to explain it. Look, sometimes, when you're around somebody, even if you're really close, you get these days where you're just not on the same frequency, or whatever. Doesn't that ever happen with you and Sanzo? Or with you and your girlfriend?"

"Sometimes we ain't on the same page, sure." I shrug. "But it's not _this_ bad. You guys almost act like you're mad at each other."

"We're not. Goku, don't worry about it. I'm stoked to see Hakkai, and he's stoked to see me. We're just on different wave-lengths today, 'cause I wasn't expecting him, and he has to buy all the food, and blah blah blah. It's okay."

I know it's more than that, but I don't know how to get him to admit it's more than that. Instead I look him up and down. "How dya' feel anyway?"

Gojyo coughs and shrugs, "Okay. Why?"

"'Cause ya' got hurt, remember?"

"How could I forget? You guys keep reminding me every step of the way."

"Yeah, we're worried about ya'."

"I'm cool. He took a look at it and didn't put me on bed-rest, so I must not be hurt _that_ bad."

"Yeah, I guess so." I'm really relieved Hakkai looked at Gojyo's wounds. He probably didn't heal them, because he doesn't do that very much anymore, but he probably at least changed the bandages, and that's good. Just one more reason I think Hakkai can get stuff turned around while he's here. "But ya' lied to him about your leg."

Goj freezes and takes a sec to look at me. "So?"

"I dunno'. Why?"

"I don't know."

"Sanzo said ya' got shot there or somethin' crazy. Ya' don't think that's a big deal?"

"I didn't get shot." Gojyo scowls. "And it's not that bad. Not enough to get Hakkai all fussy anyway."

"Yeah, but-"

"I know, I know, okay? I know. I'll deal with it later. Man, you're getting as bad as he is."

"Maybe just 'cause lately you're actin' kinda-"

"Gojyo!" A voice echoes in the street around us.

I look up to see a guy coming toward us, and it takes me a second to recognize that it's the same guy Gojyo insulted at the bar the other night, because he looks so angry now, and he looks mean. There's a gleam in his eyes that says he wants to fight, and he's got about ten guys with him. They're all human, but they all look pissed off too.

Gojyo barely glances at him, "Oh, hey there, Rong."

"Don't 'hey there' me, asshole! I've been looking all over town for you."

"That's stupid. You know where I live, don't you?"

"Shut up! I've heard enough shit from you to last a lifetime."

Gojyo sighs and puffs his cigarette, "Right. So then why don't you run along?"

Nervously, I watch. They look like they really want to fight with him, and there's only eleven, but I don't want Gojyo to fight them. Not today.

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you, hanyou?"

I take a deep breath and look at Gojyo, even more nervous now.

He just laughs. "Oh, wow. You're really mad at me, huh?"

"Mad doesn't even start to cover it." Rong's coming right at him now, not really fast, but steady, and he looks way ready to throw down.

Gojyo doesn't back off, and now people are starting to circle around us, watching quietly. I try to find Hakkai, but he's not around. "Look, Casanova, I've got a serious hangover today."

"Good. That'll make this an easy win."

"_Nooo_. It means I'm not in the mood for bullshit, and I'm not going to go easy on you, so unless you wanna' get hurt, you better step off and forget about it."

"Forget about it? Forget about all the times you've been an asshole to me over the years? You've always been a pretentious dick, Gojyo, and I put up with it, because I thought you were a cool guy, but I'm not gonna' let you get away with disrespecting me and my fiancée."

"Fine." Gojyo sighs. "It's your funeral."

"Wait a minute, Gojyo." I grab his arm.

"What?" He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, but he keeps his focus on Rong.

"Don't do this."

"Why? Dude wants to fight."

"Yeah, but it's over somethin' stupid."

"Heh. Since when do we care about that?"

"Lookit these guys. They're not even a threat. Let's just get outta' here."

Gojyo shrugs, "You don't have to fight them if you don't want to."

"He's right." Rong says. "You'd be smart to stay out of this."

I glare at him, "Can't'cha' just let it go, guy? He said somethin' dumb when he was drunk."

"He said the wrong thing to the wrong guy, and I don't care if he was drunk or not. I'm gonna' kick his ass, and yours too, if you don't stay out of it." He pulls out a knife, flips it around in his grip, tossing it from one hand to the next, then back, real fast.

It doesn't matter though, 'cause I know Gojyo can win. That's not the problem. I don't really know _what_ the problem is… I guess I just don't feel right about letting Gojyo fight 'em and trash 'em, but I don't know how to stop him.

He pulls out of my hand and steps forward, "Bring it on."

"C'mon, Gojyo." I groan. "Let's just walk away."

He ignores me.

Rong sneers, "I'm gonna' give you _one_ chance to apologize, Gojyo, and then I'm gonna' gut ya'."

"I'm sorry, Rong. I'm sorry you're a dead-beat loser with an ugly skank for a wife, and I'm sorry you're about to be a daddy, and that means your life is over-"

Roaring, Rong springs at him, takes a swipe with his knife, but Gojyo ducks out of the way real easy.

Then the other guys attack: all of them at once, shouting and cursing, shoving against each other to try to find room to get at Gojyo.

Goj dodges and blocks the first wave of swings, throws his cigarette down, "What the hell is this? The Gojyo-Haters Club?"

I watch in disbelief as he starts taking them apart. It's easy, 'cause every one of them is human, and like he said, he's not in the mood for it. He grabs the first guy by the wrist and snaps his arm, breaking it like a toothpick, then swings him around, throwing him back into two or three of his friends, and they all fall down. Gojyo takes the next guy head on, catches him around the waist and throws him down into the pile. I hear more bones snapping and some agonized screaming.

"Gojyo, you asshole!" Rong takes another swipe at his face, barely missing his nose.

Gojyo basically ignores him, moves out of the way, and punches the next opponent so hard, his eye pops out, and then he falls down too, holding his face and screaming.

Another couple guys go at him from behind, hacking at him with their own knives. Gojyo disarms one, takes the other's knife, snap kicks the first in the stomach, then breaks the other's knee, spins around immediately to stab his next opponent, right in the arm. Blood sprays.

The crowd around me murmurs, and somebody yells.

Now there are only four guys left. It's only been about a minute, but I still feel nervous, and I keep looking around for Hakkai, knowing he's bound to show up in the middle of this, any second now.

Three of them jump Gojyo all at once, trying to drag him down, and he kicks and fights and shoves them off.

Just when I think the fight's about to be over, this big guy steps out of the crowd. He's about as big as me, and he's a youkai, and he looks pissed off too. I see the club in his hand a second too late, and then he hauls off, like he's batting at a baseball game, and cracks Gojyo good, in the back of the head.

Gojyo doesn't make a sound as he crumbles to the ground.

"Hey!" I yell, finally starting to step forward, and I really feel like an idiot for not doing something sooner. This is the second time I've just stood by and watched him get hit.

They're gathering around him. A couple that he already beat down stand up, rubbing their injuries and cursing at him. Rong kicks dirt in his face, "I warned you, Gojyo."

Gojyo's sitting up, slowly, touching the back of his head, where I see some blood threading through his red hair. He shakes his head, trying to clear his vision, but they're closing in, laughing now and calling him filthy names.

Right when I think I really better do something, he gets to his feet, uppercuts the big guy, and he flies up and back.

Rong kicks him in the side.

This time, Gojyo yelps and staggers back, and I remember he's injured there. Rong probably didn't know that when the fight started, but he knows it now. He punches him in the stomach, real hard. Gojyo tumbles back into their arms, coughing. They try to hold him, but he wrenches free like they're just a class of six year olds, and now I can see he's pissed. Really, really pissed. He hits one, square in the head, and the guy falls down, unconscious.

Now it's three of them, and one of him. And he's mad as hell.

I try to figure out what I should do. Should I step in anyway before he kills somebody?

Probably.

I make a move.

Hakkai's suddenly right there with me, "What in the world is going on?"

Rong gapes at him, and I can see that he's suddenly kinda' scared, "You…"

"That's the guy that got in the fight with Gojyo the other night." I tell him.

"I know who he is." Hakkai answers patiently, "But why in the world are they fighting _now_?"

"Stay out of this, Hakkai!" Rong yells. "It's got nothing to do with you!"

"Oh right." Gojyo huffs, rubbing his bleeding head again, "And bringing eleven guys at me was cool." He glances around at all the guys he's beaten already, "Lotta' good it did you."

Hakkai moves forward a little anyway, using that serious, commanding tone he has, "Stop this at once, all of you. This is childish."

Rong almost sounds like he's whining, "Do you have any idea what this dick said to me, Hakkai?"

"Do you honestly think I _care_ what he said to you? Starting a fight in the town square is not the answer, regardless of the situation."

"Never mind, Hakkai." Gojyo's lighting a cigarette. Blood is pouring down the back of his neck, "It's under control."

"It doesn't _look_ under control, Gojyo."

"Maybe you need to come stand where I'm standing. This pussy-dick brought his whole union with him, and they still couldn't beat me, so as far as I'm concerned, what I said stands."

"Enough!" Rong screams. "You're gonna' pay!" He dives forward again, knife shining.

Gojyo side steps him, knees him in the stomach.

Rong doubles over, choking and sputtering.

Gojyo stands him up straight and clocks him. Then again, and again. He starts beating on him, punching him in the face over and over.

"Shit!" The last couple of Rong's buddies rush in to try to save him, but Gojyo swats them away like they're flies and goes on pummeling Rong.

At first, Rong tries to block, tries to fight back, but Gojyo's way stronger than he is, and he just ignores everything he does. The knife clatters on the ground. He's knocking Rong all over the place, hitting him so he almost falls, catching him right before he does, then hitting him again.

The crowd starts murmuring.

"Hey, stop!" I yell.

Blood is splattering everywhere. Rong's whole face is bleeding, his clothes are torn, and it looks like he's barely able to stay on his feet, but that doesn't matter, 'cause Gojyo won't let him fall down.

"Gojyo, cut it out!"

Hakkai moves in, grabbing him by the shoulder, "You're going to kill him!"

Gojyo elbows Hakkai right in the face, hard; it doesn't even look like he has to think about it—he just does it, and Hakkai stumbles back into me, clutching his nose and staring with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"Gojyo…"

Rong's on the ground now. Gojyo grabs him by the shirtfront and lifts him up so he can keep hitting him. Red is streaked up his forearm from his gashed knuckles and Rong's face.

"Somebody make it stop!" A woman in the crowd screams.

Other people are yelling too. They're starting to move forward, angry and eager.

This is turning really bad. In a second, this whole mob's gonna' be on Gojyo, and I don't know what I can do to stop it.

Suddenly, it feels just like we're on the road again, surrounded by assassins, all of them closing in for the kill, reaching out with their clawed hands. Reaching for my team mate, and there are too many of them for him to take all at once. He's been weird lately, and we can't afford to be too weird on the road. It makes us easy targets. But he's been weird, and he smells wrong—he smells like stress and chaos and frustration and panic, and none of that is normal, and it makes my heart race. They're gonna get him. They're gonna' hurt him if I let them. They're gonna' kill him, and I can't let them do that. Not if there's any chance for me to step in. Gojyo's not gonna' die on this journey, 'cause I'm not gonna' let him. I don't have so many to deal with right now, so I have to help him. I dunno' where Sanzo and Hakkai are, but I'm closest, so I need to make a move.

I plow through them, knocking them over and kicking them down, punching them and shoving them away, fighting to get to Gojyo's side. Someone grabs my wrist, but I wrench loose and punch him. Blood splatters on my shirt.

"Goku!" Hakkai's screaming at me.

Is he in trouble too? I scan the crowd for him, but I don't see him.

I fight harder, back kicking an assassin that's trying to come up behind me.

I smack another one across the face.

Some of them fall back, looking nervous, but others look angry, and they come at me.

I'm to Gojyo now. I stand back-to-back with him, summon my bo and whip it back and forth, and all the assassins jump away, screaming, barely avoiding getting broken into bits by my sweep.

Hakkai leaps out of the crowd and grabs my shoulders, "Goku! Stop!"

Blinking, I stare at him.

His face is pale and covered in panic, eyes wide and very bright.

"Stop! Put that away!"

"But-"

"You do not need to be fighting these people, do you understand? They're not enemies!"

How can they not be? So many people, all attacking my team at the same time. How can they not be enemies?

I scan the crowd, but they're all standing away from me, staring at me, scared and worried and shocked. I notice a few women, clinging to their husbands or whatever. I hear children crying.

_Wait a minute… Where…?_

I whip around to look at Gojyo.

He's got blood dripping down his face, but he's just smoking, calmly, like everything's okay. Rong's lying at his feet, writhing and moaning and bleeding.

Everyone is quiet.

"Damn, kid." Gojyo says at last, "What was that about?"

That's right… We're not on the road. We're…

Quickly, I scan the crowd, making sure nobody's hurt. Some people are sitting on the ground, looking real scared, but nobody seems to be unconscious.

My heart is pounding in my throat.

_No way. Did I really just freak out like that?_

Hakkai's clutching my arm, real tight, saying something to me, but I can't hear him. I'm too stunned by what just happened.

My bo vanishes and I stare down at my open hands. I can't believe I just lost it out of nowhere like that.

"S-sorry." I stutter, finally. "I thought they were gonna'…"

Slowly, Hakkai lets go of my arm, and I face Gojyo again.

"Are ya' okay?"

He looks at me like I'm totally nuts, but then he nods.

"I suggest we leave now." Hakkai says, voice tight, "Before this gets any worse, if it even can."

Nobody moves.

Finally, he grabs my arm again, then Gojyo's in the other hand, and starts to shove us both through the crowd.

People move out of the way without making a sound.

After a sec, Gojyo wrenches loose and walks by himself, but I keep letting Hakkai drag me along, 'cause I don't know what else to do. I don't really get what just happened, and I'm in a daze, and I'm worried about all kinds of stuff, and I just want to let Hakkai deal with it, 'cause that's what he's good at. Dealing with the stuff I don't really get.

We round a corner and leave the square behind, and before I know it, we're on the outskirts of town, in this quiet, peaceful place that's almost like a park. There's a pool that kids throw coins in that hasn't been drained yet, and there are a lot of trees with bright orange and red leaves. I sit down, unsteadily, on the edge of the pool, taking a deep breath.

Hakkai stands over me a moment, then turns and says something to Gojyo. It sounds like he's scolding him.

"Rong started it." Is the only answer I hear.

Shaking his head, Hakkai leans down to look me in the eyes, "Are you all right, Goku?"

"Nn, yeah. Sorry. I saw them going at him an' I just…reacted."

Gojyo snorts, "Next time, just mind your own business, monkey. I had that under control."

"There were a lotta' them."

"But it's not like they were a group of assassins or something."

I nod, slowly, "I know. I just…" I can't explain what happened. It was freaky to do something like that, and even though I hadn't lost control, it still makes me feel a lot like it felt when I woke up after losing my limiter.

"Why did you start a fight in the square in the first place?" Hakkai demands. "This all could have been avoided, you know."

I look at Gojyo. There's a big patch of blood on his shirt, where that wound is, so I figure his stitches broke, but he doesn't look sorry or embarrassed like I expect him to, and he just shrugs, "Like I said. Rong was asking for it."

"I find it highly irresponsible of you, doing what you did."

"What was I _supposed_ to do, Hakkai? Let them beat the hell out of me?"

"You could have walked away. You could have avoided the confrontation entirely. Did that notion completely escape you?"

"Right. Just back out like a coward—as if."

"Why are you fighting with Rong anyway?"

"It's just over something dumb. Don't lose sleep over it."

"I'm very tired of hearing that expression today."

"What? Don't lose sleep over it? That's the first time I've said it today."

Hakkai just shakes his head again, "I hope you realize I'm sorely disappointed, Gojyo."

He's probably gonna' stand there and lecture him all day, I realize, and Gojyo's gonna' go right on making excuses and arguing with him, and I don't want to deal with any of it at all. Not after what I just did. I get up suddenly, "I'm goin' home."

They both look at me funny.

"Are you sure?" Hakkai asks softly. "Perhaps you should sit a little longer."

"Nah, I feel okay." I try to smile. "I…I really wanna' go home, that's all."

He looks thoughtful. "Well, if you think you should. You're all right, aren't you?"

"Yeah." I look myself over, making sure I'm not hurt, but nobody even touched me. It probably all only lasted a few seconds anyway. "I'll be okay."

"I would offer to go with you, but…" He shoots a glance at Gojyo.

I stare at Goj. He's all bloody, holding his side and wearing that face he makes when he's trying to act like he's not in pain when he really, really is.

What is wrong with him anyway? I just can't figure it out.

"S'okay. I'll be fine."

"Very well then. Perhaps I'll come up and see you again tomorrow." He turns to Gojyo, "Let's go home, shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**I have to admit, I was hesitant to write and post this fic because Saiyuki is an ongoing, chaotic thing, and I have no idea what's going to happen to the characters; in a way, I've been thinking of this as sort of an AU fic—you know, the universe where they stop the revival and get the sutra and all four of them come back from India okay, and Sanzo's face doesn't get burned off, because that's how **_**I**_** would like to see Saiyuki end. Regardless of any of that though, the truth about this fic is it's really about friendship and the way it changes as life progresses, and how everyone is capable of treating their friends like shit, even when they're not meaning to, and how easily everything can come undone, how hard it is to put it all back together. In the end, this fic is really about the things that tear people apart, and that hold them together.**

* * *

_Sigh Again_

**Gojyo**

"What's going on with you and Rong?"

"Guess I made him mad."

I take a long look over my shoulder; I'm not sure who I expect to see coming after me, but I figure somebody's gonna' follow me home. First Choko at Musashi's, bringing me some paper from Loki, then Rong and that ridiculous gang of his. Friends are starting to feel few and far between, and I feel like I'm in a corner.

Nobody's behind us—just the open road and the empty woods.

"He talked as if you said something extremely disrespectful to him. I wonder if you might let me in on what that was."

"I don't know, Hakkai. I was pretty drunk when that happened."

I touch the crumpled up paper in my pocket. What the hell did Loki want now? Dammit, I knew if we went into Musashi's I'd see somebody from Loki's gang. Those guys always hang around in there.

"I think it's highly unwise of you to begin making enemies out of your friends."

Is there something double-edged in that? I give him a long look, but if he means anything by it, I can't tell.

Hakkai's my friend right? I haven't seen him in a long time, but…he's on my side, isn't he?

"I don't think I made an enemy out of Rong."

"You must be joking. He obviously hunted you down so that he could fight you, if not kill you, and he brought a dozen men with him to help him get the job done. How is that not an enemy?"

"Fine then. We were never friends to begin with, how's that?"

"You know what I mean, Gojyo. Someone who didn't want to kill you last week now wants to kill you, and all I'd like to know is why."

"What's it matter?"

"Perhaps, depending on the nature of your trespass, Rong can be reasoned with. He's so upset, I highly doubt you two will ever be friends now, but at least we might be able to talk him out of wanting to kill you."

I don't know now that I went and beat the hell out of him. I shouldn't have done that, but I just felt so frustrated, getting attacked like that out of nowhere, knowing I started this whole thing with Rong over something so stupid. I guess I lost control.

"He's not going to kill me." I sigh. "He's too much of a pussy."

"I don't want him to even _attempt_ to kill you, ever, regardless of if he can or not."

"Is this what you came back for? To fix all my problems?" I grin at him and shove him lightly, to show that I'm teasing.

Hakkai doesn't smile back, not even a little bit, but he shakes his head at me. "I can't understand why you won't just tell me what it is that happened between the two of you."

I know he doesn't get it, and I can't tell him the reason. All I know is, what I said to Rong was a seriously asshole thing to say, and it was totally uncalled for, and I did it to start a fight, and I wanted to start a fight for all the wrong reasons, and I don't want to explain all that to Hakkai. I don't want him to tell me I'm an asshole or that I'm petty or sick. I don't want him to judge me and take Rong's side, because obviously that's the side to take, in this situation. Even Goku had tried to talk me out of kicking his ass, and now Hakkai's lecturing me over it.

I hate all that, especially since, there's part of me that almost does want to tell Hakkai the truth, if only because I'm so used to telling him what's going on.

_Aren't I happy to see him?_ I can't believe the monkey actually went out of his way to ask me that.

_Of course_ I'm happy to see Hakkai. The last thing I want is for him to get pissed off at me and go away early. One week is already way too short.

"'Cause I don't remember; I was drunk." I hook my arm over his shoulder, glad to feel that he's there, even if it's only for a little while.

He sighs.

I feel really, really bad about it all, about lying to him and annoying him and causing trouble. I don't want the one week he's here to be full of drama and bullshit.

"Sorry." I murmur.

"Never mind. We'll have to think of some other way to deal with Rong, that's all. In the meantime, I'm concerned that your stitches may have broken, so we'll have to take a look at that as soon as we're home."

That's still kind of a long ways, and my stitches are definitely broken. Pain shoots up and down my side, the wound stinging and throbbing, with my shirt sticking to it, but I do my best to act like I'm okay.

"I suppose, I could just _heal_ the wound, but…I try not to do that, as much as I can, seeing how it takes up my own energy, and at the moment it's not particularly necessary. Also, I've been taking quite a few medical classes at school."

I try not to sigh or sound annoyed, but I don't really want to hear anymore about what he's been doing at school. I want to pretend he's going to stay here. "Oh really?"

"Indeed. I can't say that I'll ever enter into a medical profession, but I thought it might be useful to know a few techniques, although, with any luck, I won't exactly need them from here on out."

"Right." I cough a little.

"My medical first aid professor is an impressive woman though, I must say that. Apparently, amidst the chaos of the minus wave, she traveled the countryside helping anyone she came across who was in need of medical attention."

"Like what Ton did."

"Yes, exactly what Ton did. According to rumors, she even gave aid to a few injured youkai, but I have no way of knowing whether that's true or not, since that would take a tremendous amount of courage. Not that she doesn't _have_ that courage…I just don't see aiding berserk youkai as a very rewarding endeavor, seeing how they'd likely just eat a human woman, even if she was helping to tend their wounds."

"Uh-huh."

He's quiet for a few minutes and we keep walking up the trail. Slowly, he says, "I'm learning quite a bit there, perhaps even more than I realize, so it's been a good experience, all-in-all."

"Great."

"Things are different there, of course, and people are different, and the atmosphere is different, but it's not a bad sort of different, I wouldn't say so. There's a lot to be gained in a place like that, I've decided." He slips a look at me, out of the corner of his eye.

Oh no. No, no. I know what he's getting at, and there is just no way.

"Good for you."

"You know, you should come and see me some time. I realize it's a long way to go without the Jeep, which is why you've never come to visit before, but it would be good to have you come and see the place. That is, I would be happy to have you. …Maybe when I leave again, you can come along with me and stay a few days. Of course, we'll have to find some way to get you back over here, but I don't think that's impossible, do you?"

By that he means he's hoping I'll wind up staying there instead of dealing with the hassle of trying to get home. He pulled some shit like this before he moved too, trying to manipulate me into going with him.

"It really is a nice place, and I have a handful of companions who'd be glad to meet you in person. More than anything, of course, I would just like it if you'd at least consider going back with me, for a while…"

Is he seriously doing this? The longer I listen to him, the surer I feel that he's seriously trying to convince me to go back to his fucking college town with him, and not just for a little while either. Not just for a visit. He wants me to go live there with him. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure, and that kind of pisses me off.

Who the hell does he think he is? Does he think I even _want_ to go live over there, or that I ever, ever will? Why the hell would I be even slightly interested in living in a place like that? If he wants me around, he shouldn't have moved—that's that.

"Maybe." I grumble.

"Not permanently." He adds, like he thinks he can convince me.

I guess he thinks that'll solve everything, me just picking up my whole life and running off with him to live in some college town where everyone's smart and ambitious and successful. What, does he think intelligence and ambition and success will rub off on me if I'm around it enough?

He doesn't even know what's going on around here these days. He doesn't know the first thing about my life right now, but he still thinks he can smooz back in here and fast-talk me into going home with him, the same way Banri used to come back and fast-talk me into doing shit I didn't want to do. Not this time though. Hakkai probably doesn't realize it, but I can't go with him to his college town, because I could never even start to fit in there. I need the grunge scene and the nightlife—it's the only thing I know—I won't know what to do with myself if I let that all go.

Angrily, I realize I've already lost a lot of that, and even now, I have no idea what I should do with myself.

But that doesn't mean moving away to some place that will never accept me is going to solve all my problems. I can't believe he's even naïve enough to think that. Doesn't he realize that all his smart, successful, ambitious new friends, who are supposedly dying to meet me, will just look down on me and judge me and think I'm trash as soon as they see me and realize what I am? That's how I wind up in shitholes like the one I'm in now, where most people don't know, or at least don't care a whole lot. Some school town full of well-to-do, highly-educated humans is not going to take kindly to a slutty mutt like me.

Of course, I don't expect Hakkai to get it. He's never judged me by my blood for as long as I've known him, and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that sometimes he forgets what I am, so of course he's not thinking about that.

He's not thinking about anything but himself and how much he wants me to go with him, the selfish bastard. He has no idea what kind of bullshit problems it would start for me if I moved to some fancy, upscale, rich-man's town.

"What would I do there?" I demand, cutting him off.

Hakkai gives me a long, questioning look, like he doesn't understand the question, or the reason I'd even ask it. "I don't know. Visit me. I'd still have to go to my classes of course, but I'm sure we could find some way to entertain ourselves, and I have a decent-sized apartment—more than big enough for two people—so you wouldn't have to be concerned with accommodations."

Right. Just move on in to his awesome new apartment, meet all his awesome, new friends, and get assimilated into his awesome new life, like I couldn't make anything work without him.

Then again, so far I really haven't been able to make anything work without him, so I can't blame him for thinking that, I guess, but still, I don't think moving away is the answer now. I ran from town to town for almost ten years of my life, always thinking I'd find something—someone—that would make me feel like I belonged, until I finally realized that even if I found that something or that someone, I was never going to belong anywhere, and the only time I had ever felt like I did belong was when he'd lived here with me, and now look. If I pack up and follow him all over, I'll just be setting myself up for a hardcore letdown.

So as shitty as that is, I just have to accept that I'm stuck here, stuck being this way, living this life. Going with Hakkai won't fix anything for me; it'll just make me feel like I'm some worthless, little punk who couldn't make it on his own.

Either way, I smile at him and say, "Alright, we'll see." Even though I know we never will.

When we get home, Hakkai stitches the wound in my side back up, even though it wasn't broken open too bad, and looks at my head where the big guy hit me with the club, then he starts to clean the house, but he doesn't make me help him, because I'm hurt. He makes me sit down on the couch and stay there while he goes around picking up my mess, and that makes me feel like a complete idiot. I try to argue with him and tell him it's my mess, but he won't listen to me, and he tells me he'd much rather have me sit still and not push myself.

After a little bit, I get up and go into the bathroom. I never told him about the cut in my leg, because he seemed so unhappy about the first two wounds, I couldn't imagine what he'd say if I pulled another one out of thin air.

I sit down on the edge of the bath tub and peel off the gauze pads and tape. It's just a shallow slash in the thigh—not too serious—but I haven't cleaned it or messed with it at all since the day it happened, and if I don't do something with it now, it'll probably get infected, and then I'll have to tell him, and I'll never hear the end of it.

When I'm done cleaning it, I put some antibiotic cream on it, and then I get out the note Loki's guy dropped me. In the restaurant, I didn't get a very good look at it—I just saw who it was from and stuffed it away before Hakkai or Goku could take it from me.

All it says is 'meet at the brothel at eight tonight', then, in all capitals, 'DON'T BE LATE'.

Signed, Loki.

Great. How am I supposed to get out of the house without Hakkai asking me questions or trying to come with me? And what the hell does Loki want?

Whatever it is, it can't be good, but I'm not sure I can get out of it.

I slap some new gauze pads on the slash, slide back into my jeans, then hesitate for a moment to look in what's left of the mirror at the bruises and cuts that are partially healed on my face.

Loki's getting pretty ballsy, having people hand-deliver notes to me in broad daylight right in front of my personal friends. Not that it wasn't ballsy when he showed up on my doorstep, in person, six months ago, or whatever it was, asking me to do him a favor. Come to think of it, Loki's gotten pretty ballsy, period, ever since he came back to this town, sick in the head and nutty as a ball sack. I've wished a lot since then that I'd just told him to go away and leave me out of whatever it was he was after, but I didn't, and now I'm wrapped up in his world so tight, I can't imagine the kind of fight it's gonna' take to get out.

That raid he wants to do…that really bothers me.

It's not as easy as saying no though. He's damn determined to get what he wants, and he thinks he can use me to do it.

The only thing I can think of to get rid of him is to kill him, but he's totally nuts, and his gang is tough. For years, I've been thinking of ways to kill him off, but he's always surrounded by the strongest, most capable men he has, and he's almost impossible to get to.

I owe him one though, and maybe now that we're playing in the same court, I might finally get the opportunity I need to ice him before he ices me.

It would be way easier to kill him if Hakkai was on my side, and all the bullshit that's going on now gives me the perfect opportunity to get him involved.

If Hakkai thinks I'm in trouble, he'll be totally willing to fight, and I can use that to my advantage. It's just a matter of telling him what's going on, altering the truth, slightly, so it doesn't look like it's really my fault.

I look myself in the eyes and try to come up with a believable lie.

_I'm a victim of circumstance. An idiot. I do things impulsively, and it gets me in trouble sometimes._ Hakkai knows all that already.

Besides, he's weirdly protective of me, and always has been. I think he tries to act like he isn't, or tries not to be so much, because he knows I'm a grown man, but I doubt he can help it. For one thing, he's never quite gotten over the fact that he let Kanan down so bad, and that makes him a touch overprotective of everyone around him. Secondly, I'm weaker than he is, and I figure he's hyper aware of it, even if it's something I try not to think about. Lastly, and most importantly, Hakkai's just like that. He's so…parental.

I can definitely use all that to get him on my side and help me take out Loki.

For a moment, it all sounds like a great idea, and I find myself grinning anxiously: tell him about Loki and how he's been harassing me—_forcing_ me to work for him—leave out some messy details like the heroin and Loki's dreams for his next big job, 'cause those won't go over well, let his natural concern and his urge to butt in take over, then we'll take Loki out, together, like old times. It's about time somebody knocked that motherfucker down anyway, and Hakkai's already here trying to help me, right?

But the more I think about it, the more sick and nasty it seems.

The smile melts, slowly off my face. Is this how far I've sunk? Isn't it bad enough that I'm borrowing money from Goku left and right, never paying him back—never intending to—straight up lying to his face, and Sanzo's, about everything that's going on with me? Where does it end? Now I think it's a great idea to trick and manipulate Hakkai while he's here, just as a means to an end.

_What an asshole._

It's not right, especially when I already know he's sick to death of violence and killing and fighting. I'm sick of it too, but that's no reason to push it off on him.

The thing is, I know he'll help me if I need it. He'll _want_ to help me. He'll fight and kill and throw away his peace and happiness—I know because he's done it before—for me. But I don't want him to have to do that, and I don't think I can ask him to anymore than I could ask him to stay here with me.

Grimly, I realize that if I want Loki dead, if I want to fix these things that are going wrong in my life, I have to do it by myself, and he can just enjoy his vacation, hopefully go away thinking everything here is cool.

That's the way it has to be.

With a sigh, I leave the bathroom and go back to sit on the couch, trying not to limp, and I feel more frustrated than ever.

Hakkai keeps cleaning, and he talks to me a little, but there isn't a lot to say because he doesn't ask me what's going on in my life, and I don't even want to know about everything going on in his. For now, not talking seems better.

I still try to act normal though, because if Goku noticed something's up, then it must be really, really obvious, and I don't want Hakkai to see how wrong it all is.

He cleans for a while longer, until I barely recognize my place anymore, and then he must be happy with his progress, because he decides to take a break and suggests we play some cards. I agree, but it's almost six o'clock, and I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do about Loki. He went out of his way to say I shouldn't be late, and if I don't show up at all, he'll probably come here. At least if I go see him, I might be able to come up with some lie and then Hakkai won't know what I'm doing, but if he comes here with a bunch of his guys—or even just sends some guys to get me—there won't be any way to hide that.

Hakkai starts dealing for the first round.

I'm staring at the clock, watching anxiously as the minute hand goes around, so I don't hear what he says.

"Um, what?"

"I said, we didn't get a chance to buy a lot of groceries, but I think I might be able to pull something together in a moment, if you're hungry."

"Yeah sure." Not that it matters. If I want to get to the brothel by eight, I'll have to leave here by seven, so unless he starts making dinner right now, I'm not eating until I get back. Whenever that'll be. It just depends on what Loki wants. I could be out all night, for all I know.

"It goes without saying that there aren't a lot of options, but is there anything you'd prefer to eat?"

"No. Whatever you want."

If Loki just wants to talk, I might be back here by nine thirty. If he wants me to do something, it could be even longer. If he's pissed off and looking to put me in my place over something, it'll all depend on how that goes down and who's with him and how I feel.

"How many cards do you need?"

I've barely even glanced at my hand. It's not a good one at all—not that it really matters, because he always wins anyway.

If I'm out all night, Hakkai's definitely going to notice, and he's probably going to be pretty ticked off about it. He'll be even more ticked off if I can't come up with a good alibi for him. Just saying 'be back later' won't cut it. He's going to want to know where I'm going and why, and he's probably going to nag me about my injuries and how I need to be taking it easy on my drinking, and about how I haven't really been eating, and more than likely a dozen other things too that I haven't even noticed I'm doing wrong.

"Gojyo? The cards?"

"I'm thinkin'." I grumble, fold up three cards and toss them to him. "Three."

He deals me some new cards and looks his over again, "I'll only need two, I believe."

He's probably got some killer hand.

My new cards aren't any better than my old ones, so it's going to be a bluffing game, and even if I bluff it right, I'm still going to lose.

I take a long drag off my cigarette and set it to smolder in the ash tray, "I dunno' why I even bother playing this game with you anymore."

Hakkai looks up with a startled, wide-eyed expression. "Excuse me?"

I just shake my head and toss a chip in.

He hesitates.

"Callin' or raisin'?"

"You know…one doesn't usually say something like that at a poker game."

"Call and raise. Those are the terms, you know that."

"No, that other thing you said. It's never been so clear to me before that you have a poor hand."

"I could have a fantastic hand for all you know." I glance at the clock and pick up my cigarette. "It doesn't matter, because you always win."

He finally decides to raise, which I knew he would, because he obviously _has_ a fantastic hand. "I seem to recall you getting the best of me on more than one occasion. You're not bad at this game, as I'm sure you're aware."

"Not bad. Average probably. Check and raise." I toss in a few more chips.

"Average." He echoes, strangely.

Actually, getting out of here tonight will probably take as much bluffing as winning a hand against him. I still don't have a good excuse. I try to think of one.

Maybe I could tell him I already promised somebody I'd go see them tonight.

"I don't believe you've ever described yourself with such mundane terminology before."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm ten-feet-tall, bullet-proof, devilishly handsome and incredibly charming, I can kick anybody's ass, anywhere, any time, and I'm the poker king." I try to grin, but all those words make me feel like I'm going to be sick. They were always a lie, and I always knew it, but it never mattered before.

If I tell him I promised to hang out with somebody else, he's going to assume I'm running off to fuck a girl, so maybe he won't try to go with me, but he'll probably be pissed about it. Or maybe he'll buy the story and he will ask to go with me. How can I counter that?

'Sorry, buddy, you can't come.' I've never said that to him before, and I don't want to. When we were younger, he was more than welcome to come with me whenever he wanted, whether I was going to see a girl or not. I always wanted him to be with me, in a way; or maybe it was more like, I was always happy to have him along. I can't remember even one time when he tagged along and I wished he'd just stayed home. After a while of living together, being side by side started to feel like our most natural state.

I really hate how it is now, never seeing him.

I glance across the table at him, and it makes me feel a little better to have him looking back at me, even if it is with his poker face.

"You are most of those things. At least, I believe you to be."

"I'm definitely not ten-feet-tall. Raise."

"No, but the rest… I've seen you take a bullet and walk away from it, so I think even that may be true."

He's seen everything in the last ten years. Absolutely everything—every weak moment, every pathetic breakdown, every day I thought I wasn't good enough, just as much as he's seen me be strong and confident and happy.

Hakkai sighs, "Check and raise two-thousand."

"Fold." I discard my hand.

He studies me a while. "What did you have?"

"Nothing, dude. Absolutely nothing."

"Four of a kind." He lays that out, waits a moment for me to show my handful of nothing, shrugs a little, and stands up, "I think I'll have some sake. You?"

"Beer, I guess."

He sets that in front of me and goes to heat up the sake.

If I tell him he can't go with me tonight, I'm going to hurt his feelings, especially if I don't have a good reason. After all, we don't live together now, and he's got nothing to do around here but clean and hang out with me, so he's going to be bored on top of hurt.

I don't want to leave hurt, bored Hakkai behind, and I really don't want to come home to hurt, bored Hakkai, because hurt and bored is going to turn into angry as hell while I'm away.

It's worse than having a girlfriend.

Hakkai sits down and shuffles, starts to deal again. "Something funny happened to me the other day."

I light a new cigarette and take a gulp of beer. It's just a little after six, but I feel like time is going by fast, and I still don't have a good excuse to leave. "Yeah, what?"

"I was in a classroom, waiting for my calculus class to begin, and I was approximately twenty-minutes ahead of schedule, and while I was sitting there, a young student came in—well, not terribly young, I suppose, about Goku's age—and came straight to me and began asking questions about an assignment."

"I need two."

He passes me two cards and takes one for himself. "Well, of course I have a good grasp of the material, and even though this student is in a different class than I am, I was able to be of assistance. We went over a good deal of the problems, and I did some examples to show how they're done. Still, I thought it was strange that a student I've never met in my life was asking me for help."

"Raise."

"Check and raise. In any case, as it turned out, this student thought I was a substitute professor and had no idea I was a peer. I was a bit embarrassed for not having stated so up front, but she was even more embarrassed for having made such a mistake."

I glance up at him, "She?"

"Yes, it was a young woman. Oh, I suppose I didn't mention that. Anyway, we had a good laugh about it."

"Lady interaction, huh? That's cool. Did you get her number?" This hand isn't any better than the last one, but I'm sure his is awesome. "Check."

"As a matter of fact…" he chuckles a little, "We were supposed to get lunch some time this week."

"Oh."

"Yes. I suppose I'll have to rain check that. In the meantime, I'll check this, and raise two-hundred."

"Wait." I stare at him. "Didn't you tell her you'd be out of town this week?"

Hakkai looks startled. "Um. I must have…overlooked that detail. An oversight…if you will…"

"Oversight? You don't oversight shit. What about your day planner? It didn't say 'going to see Gojyo' across the week in big, bold letters?"

"I must not have looked at it that day."

"You forgot you were coming to see me?"

"No, not at all. She was beautiful, that's all. I…I didn't think about it. As I said, it was an oversight."

That still doesn't make sense to me. How could he _know_ he was coming to see me, and still invite some girl to lunch with him? That was way too sloppy for the Sanzo Ikkou's Secretary of Everything.

He watches me. Adjusts his glasses, then even toys with his limiters, something he only does when he's uncomfortable. Something I hardly ever see him do. "Aren't you going to check? Or fold? Or something?"

I cock my head at him, "You…were _planning_ on coming here…right?"

"Of course. One doesn't make a week-long trip on the fly like that."

On the fly. No. One _shouldn't_. Hakkai never would. But… if Hong Kong is about eight hundred and ninety miles away, and Hakkai always drives somewhere between sixty and seventy miles an hour, he had to have driven for at least twelve hours, and that's not including breaks. When all is said and done, I figure he's going to spend a full twenty-four hours on the road, and as far as I can tell, he isn't calculating that into his week of staying. It's sort of a long vacation, and what's with bringing just one measly suitcase? I spent years watching Hakkai prepare for going places—overnight jobs _and_ long-term trips—and I know that for Hakkai, preparing really means _over_-preparing. I would never expect him to walk in here with just one suspiciously light bag. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he didn't pack anything other than clothes and maybe a toothbrush. The bare necessities, in other words, and that's just not like him, especially since he's got the Jeep and he could bring half his house with him, if he wanted.

I flip my lighter open, then shut again. Open. Shut.

What would make Hakkai race over here out of the blue, with just one suitcase, without even getting his schedule figured out first?

"Gojyo? The game."

"Check." I toss my chips into the pot. "Hey, what made you decide to come back here anyway?"

"School vacation. It seemed like as good a time as any. I'll raise again."

The pot's getting kinda' big.

"Fold." I toss my cards down.

He seems confused by that. "Fold?"

"Fold. Why is there a vacation in the middle of October? Didn't you just get off summer vacation?"

"I'm not sure why it's that way…"

"How long is your vacation?"

"Why are you asking so many questions about my vacation?"

"Because it doesn't make sense."

"It makes perfect sense: I have time off from school, and I came to see you."

"Why didn't you come over summer vacation when you had like—hell, what, a month off?"

"What difference does it make? I'm here now, and that's all that matters."

Seems suspicious as hell to me. "Yeah, okay." I lean forward. "But why?"

He takes a long time to answer, and then, just when I think he doesn't have a reason, he suddenly says, "Because you're here."

I sit back in my chair and stare up at the ceiling. I almost had him on the ropes—I was even dumb enough to think that I might—but he got out of that one, because how the hell can I argue with that? Still, it doesn't make any sense for him to breeze in here, take time off school, and work, without even making a plan first. It's not like him; he's not impulsive like that.

He goes to get the sake.

It's fifteen after six, and I still don't have a good excuse for getting out of here in forty-five minutes.

"Fuck."

"What?"

"Nothing." I start to shuffle.

Maybe I can tell him it's an emergency. Somebody somewhere needs me to be there ASAP, because they're in trouble, and I'm their go-to guy.

How am I going to talk him out of coming with me though? If there's an emergency, or if Hakkai thinks there's going to be a fight, there won't be any way to convince him to stay here.

We play a few more hands, and he's quiet now, because obviously he slipped up. He didn't want me to know he didn't _plan_ to come see me.

He really didn't, that's obvious. A planned trip would look way different.

But, he didn't mean to surprise me either, or else why would he have sent a letter telling me he was coming?

When six-thirty comes, I still don't have a good excuse, and I'm running out of ideas.

Of course, there's always the 'I gotta' run to the corner store' excuse. The corner store is a twenty minute walk from here, but maybe I can come up with something else, about how I met so-and-so who I haven't seen in years, at the corner store, and he invited me to have a quick beer with him. He was paying, so I accepted.

Hakkai expects me to do shit like that. I could probably even tell him I ran into a hooker on my way to the corner store and stopped to get my dick wet, and he wouldn't be surprised.

But he's going to want to go with me. That's the catch, over and over.

By six-forty-five, I haven't thought of a single excuse he won't either see through or want to go with me on.

I have the timeless option of telling him the truth.

_Yeah right. Hey, 'Kai, I have to go see Loki at the brothel at eight—you know Loki, right?—we have some business to discuss, and he's already kinda' mad at me, so I don't think I can get out of it, so hang tight, and I'll be back before morning, if he doesn't try to kill me.._

That was going to go over like a shit storm.

_It really is like having a fucking wife._

Now it's almost seven, and I still don't know what to say to him, and I'm starting to get nervous over it, biting my cigarette and fidgeting with my beer. He's beat me at every hand, but I couldn't care less about that, since its old news, and it barely matters right now.

"You seem to be doing much worse than usual. Have you lost your touch?"

"Nah. Anyway, I don't think so."

"It's almost as if you're out of practice." He gives me a hard look.

"Not possible. This is how I make a living."

"Well, you don't have much money these days, and if you play like this in the casino I'm really not surprised."

It's five til' seven. What the hell am I going to do? I have to think of something, and it has to be good, and it has to be now. I have to lie through my teeth and blow sunshine up his ass and bluff my way out that door. It has to be the greatest performance of my life, because this guy is so frickin' smart, he's going to see through anything less than the best.

"Four cards."

I pass him four, automatically, absently take one for myself.

He raises the pot, then adjusts his glasses, frowning deeply at his hand. "Well." He glances at me.

I raise.

"Well…Gojyo…I wanted to say something to you, but…I just haven't come up with a good way to do it yet."

"Hn."

Four til seven. Dammit, dammit. I have no excuse. I don't even have a half-assed excuse.

I raise again.

"You know, about what I said earlier, about things not changing around here. I suppose maybe I misspoke. As I said, the town hasn't changed, but I'm sure there are things around here that have changed, and I'm sure some things have changed more than others."

I'm just staring at the minute hand as it goes around again. I barely notice him check the pot, barely pay attention as I check and raise again. I can't get my eyes off that clock, and I can't think of anything good to tell him. All I know is, if I don't leave in the next three minutes, I'm going to be late to meet Loki, and something tells me, I don't want that.

"Some things change for the better, don't they? And then, some things don't. Sometimes, I think it's hard to tell which is which. Check."

"Check."

There's a long pause. He's giving me a weird look. I'm playing poker like an idiot, so he can tell something's wrong, but I don't know what to do about it. I have to leave in exactly two minutes.

"I know it's possible that I'm responsible for all this…I don't know for sure if I am or not—only you know the answer to that-but everything's so obscure, I don't even know if you realize the nature of the situation, or the concern that it's raising among the rest of us."

He's quiet for a long time—a whole minute—while I watch the clock, and I can feel him staring at me.

"Gojyo, I've held off a long time on asking this, but are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm cool. It's all cool. I'm just way distracted, can't think about the game for shit. Hey, listen." I put my cigarette out. "Not my best hand. Um, I fold, okay? I have to go."

"Fold? Go? Aren't you listening to anything I've been saying?"

I stand up and grab my jacket and start to pull into it, "'Course man, change and shit like that. Hold that thought, alright? We're totally gonna' talk about it when I get back."

"Get back from where? I don't understand." He stands up too. "Where on earth are you going? I was just about to start dinner."

"Yeah. Yeah. I…I'm…I have this thing…I have to do. This guy I said I'd meet. Shouldn't take a long time, so just hang out, and I'll be right back."

His voice turns dark, and I don't look at him.

"You're going to run off to goodness knows where and you expect me to stay behind and wait up for you?"

"It's not waiting up, I swear, dude. It's not even going to take very long."

"Yes, but do you really have to go right this minute? I was in the middle of telling you something very important." He's following me to the door. "Gojyo!"

"We'll talk about it later." I throw the front door open and start a cigarette.

He grabs my arm.

I whip around to look at him, "What?"

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Nowhere important. I'll be right back."

"It's going to be absurdly boring to sit here alone for the rest of the night. What am I to do while you're gone?"

I shrug.

He exhales, agitatedly. "Then at least let me go with you. We'll pick up dinner on the way back, and that'll save me the effort of having to-"

"No."

He blinks in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"You can't come."

"Why on earth not?" His voice is pitched with that beginning of outrage that will definitely turn to anger later on when he's thought about it a while.

"I don't want you to." I pull away from him and walk out into the dark.

Even when I get to the brothel, I feel like I can still hear Hakkai shouting out after me, demanding to know where I'm going, begging me to come back and talk to him, insisting that he wants to know why he's not allowed to come. I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure he didn't follow me, but I know he didn't. He was way too confused and hurt to even bother.

The guilt is sitting on my heart like a rock, and I'm kicking myself and cursing myself and hating the whole thing, and when I get to the brothel, I'm pretty damn pissed off too.

It's not my fault though, right? It's not my fault he came back when everything's all up in the air. It's not my fault Loki decided he had to see me right now.

All I can do is try to make this as quick as possible and get home.

Loki's doormen let me in, and I go straight down to the boss, who's waiting for me.

"You're on time for once." He growls.

I'm barely listening, and I step right up to him, get right in his grill, "What the fuck is this about anyway?"

Loki looks almost shocked, and the guys around him grumble like I'm way out of line, but nobody does anything about it.

"I mean seriously, man. I can't be building my whole damn schedule around you and your bullshit operation, so don't you fucking _ever_ drop some anonymous note on my damn dinner table, ordering me to run over and see you, ever, ever again. Especially not when I'm having dinner with my fucking personal friends."

I'd really like to punch him.

Loki stays calm, but he looks like he wants to punch me too, and again, I can almost feel the hatred rippling inside him, see it oozing out his eyes like blood, can almost hear it in the way he grinds his teeth, and there's no doubt about it, this guy wants to gut me and string me up for everyone on this side of the mountain to see. Instead he pushes me back, out of his space, "If you had come to see me the other day, like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have had to. Anonymous isn't my M.O, you know that."

"Yeah, well I want _you_ to know that the only reason I'm here now is because I didn't want your goons showing up on my doorstep."

He laughs at me. "Oh, what's the matter? You don't want anyone to know about our agreement?"

"Damn straight, Loki. You're a snake. You've always been a snake. You're the scum of the earth village asshole in this town, and everybody knows it, so fuck no, I don't want anybody to know I come over to see you sometimes, and I definitely don't want them to know I do your dirty work. I thought I made that clear about a million different times. If you can't respect my terms for this retarded arrangement, then you can count me out."

He snarls and shoves me again, right into the wall, hard, claws fisted in my jacket front. "_I'm_ a snake? What does that make you? Working for a snake like me, you can't be too high up in social standing yourself, boy. The people in this town would have chased you off years ago if Bao-zhi and Doctor Nikai Ton hadn't taken you in when you were a kid."

I push him off, roughly, "Maybe, but I ain't a kid anymore, Loki, so don't you fuck with me."

"I _run_ this town, Gojyo. I fuck whatever whore I feel like fucking."

"You don't _run_ this town." I spit. "If anything you run the bottom side of it."

"And just what side do you think you're on, hm? Do tell. Because just the fact that you wandered in here at age seventeen and got into a fight with my men, and threw your lot in with Banri—who, by the way, really was the scum of the earth village asshole—and then got taken in by a blade with an illegal practice and an ex-mafia gangbanger says a whole lot about the company you keep and your own sense of decency, doesn't it? May I suggest that being what you are and who you are doesn't leave you in any position to judge me?"

"I might be a little bit crooked, but at least I'm not a fucking gang lord."

He sticks an aggressive finger in my face, "You had better watch your step, you understand? You're not useful enough to me to get away with this impertinence."

"Oh, what're you gonna' do, kill me?" I laugh. "Go ahead, asshole, but I think you better know first: Hakkai's back in town."

That shuts him up, and everybody else in the room too. No lowlife in this town wants to go up against Hakkai, ever.

"For how long?" He demands.

"Long enough to kill your sorry ass if I go missing tonight."

He stands back a moment, thinking that through, pale eyes hard and thoughtful. "I will never understand why an intelligent boy like that gives even half a damn what happens to a mutt-bitch like you, Gojyo."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to explain it to you, if you gave him a reason to. So how about we knock off the threats and you tell me what the fuck it is you want from me, and why it was so urgent that I had to run over here in the middle of the night?"

"My drugs." He grates out.

My heart damn near stops beating.

"The heroin, Gojyo. What became of that?"

_Shit_, I forgot about that…

"The buyer contacted me and said that his man came back empty-handed. According to that man, the so-called delivery boy wouldn't make the drop and walked out of the meet with the heroin. At first, I thought maybe he was lying, that the sneak took the heroin for himself, but then, when my men went to pick up the money from you yesterday afternoon, and you weren't there, I suddenly remembered who I'm dealing with: some snot-nosed, untrustworthy, piece-of-shit hanyou."

"Watch it with that word, motherfucker. I've fucked up guys three times as bad as you for saying that word to me."

"My drugs." His eyes are starting to glow with anger. "Where are my drugs? You had better not have thought, even for a second, that you could get away with taking them."

"They're at home." I shrug. "I went to drop them off, but the buyer didn't seem interested in paying me for the trouble, so until I get some cash on hand for my services, nobody gets a snort."

His eyebrows knit together. "Why you audacious, little bastard…"

"What? You telling me _you'd_ work for free? Hell, in that case, why don't you just start _giving_ heroin away? Pussy too."

"You son of a bitch!" He grabs the front of my shirt and gives me a jerk, "Don't you realize what you've done?"

"I probably put you in a damn awkward position." I grin.

"_Awkward_? Listen, you little shit. That heroin was supposed to go to Rashii, the biggest merchant on this side of the mountain, one of the richest men in this town, possibly the most powerful man in the region, and on the selfish whim of a mutt, he's not getting his order. Does that really sound _awkward_ to you?"

"It sounds like bad news for you, Loki. Doesn't have much to do with me—I just wanted my delivery fee."

"Idiot!" He throws me against the wall, "This could start a war! Do you think you can keep out of a gang war that _you_ started?"

I catch my breath and dust myself off, straighten my shirt, "Maybe. Depends, I guess."

"Of all the cocky, impudent, stupid things to think."

"Look, look, it's no big deal, alright? Like I said, I got the shit at home. I'll go back to the dive tomorrow and drop it off, as long as I'm getting paid. You pay me, Rashii pays me, whoever, I don't care. As long as I get my cut, I'll make the drop, and that'll be the end of it. It's only been a few days. No harm done."

Loki glares at me for a really long time, and I'm still expecting him to hit me; if he does, I'm really going to kill him. His guys are pressing in around us too, 'cause they probably think he's gonna' ice me, but I know he won't. If he tries, I'll have him decapitated in a sixteenth of a second, and the rest of them will be right after that. He's not going to try though—even if he's arrogant enough to think he would be able to kill me, he doesn't want to start shit with my partner.

I smirk at him, because as far as I can tell, I have him by the balls.

Suddenly, he grabs my shirt again, even more viciously than before, his voice is hushed, but it's violent, and his eyes are full of murder. "Noon tomorrow."

I have absolutely no idea how I'm supposed to sneak over to Kumotte tomorrow at noon without Hakkai asking me questions or following me or trying to tag along. "That's too early-"

"Fuck your excuses. Go to bed early, get to Kumotte by noon, and bring the heroin. I'll set up the rest. You'll get your damned delivery fee, and maybe, just _maybe_, if we're lucky, Rashii won't want to start something over all this." He jerks me. "Got it?"

"Why's it have to be noon?"

"Because you screwed up the meet, and because I said so. You should just be thankful I didn't decide to waste you tonight—I definitely thought about it—but Hakkai being around certainly changes things."

_No kidding._ It made doing this kind of shit way, way harder. It almost makes me wish he hadn't just shown up out of nowhere like he did.

I don't even know where a thought like that would come from, because like I told Goku today, I'm stoked to see my buddy—I really, really am—I just wish things were better so I could actually have some fun with him.

"Fine. Kumotte at noon. Anything else?"

"The heist. Are you in or out?"

I scowl at him, _"Out_. Jesus, Loki, are you getting alzheimer's? I told you like five times, I want nothing to do with that."

"You're going to pass up four million yen? I can hardly believe that."

"Better believe it, asshole, because I wouldn't touch that job with a ten-foot pole."

"Hm. What a shame." He smiles, contritely.

"Yeah, yeah. Too bad for you."

"No, Gojyo, it's really too bad for _you_."

I tense up and glance around at his goons again, waiting for someone to attack, but I don't see any sign that they will. "How'dya' figure?"

"Well, it's just that…as long as you're not willing to recon for me, that means I'll just have to storm in and find the treasury myself."

I stare at him, feeling a flood of horror rise to my chest, "You wouldn't do that. Not there."

"Oh, I think you've left me no choice. I'll have to go—personally, I assume—probably take my best men, make sure we're well armed, and…I mean, it would be nice if I didn't have to shoot any innocents in the process, but if I don't have a discreet way to get in, or even an idea of where to find what I'm looking for, I doubt I have much choice."

"You're telling me…you're actually so low that you'd go and _shoot_ a bunch of unarmed, peace-loving, Buddhist _monks_ to get your filthy hands on what? Some magic, clay pot?"

Loki grins, viciously, "I doubt I have much choice." He repeats.

I husk, "You fucking son of a bitch."

"I expect your friends to confront me—you know the man in charge pretty well, don't you? I've heard he's really something. A priest with a gun. But…if I take enough men, and I catch him off-guard, there's no saying what could happen."

Furiously, I lunge at him.

His guys catch me before I can hit him, and throw me back against the wall again, "You cross a serious line when you threaten my fucking friends, Loki." I snarl, fists aching to beat him senseless. Just the image of this maniacal, crazy fuck, running loose in the temple, attacking Goku and Sanzo, makes me feel like I'm going to lose it.

Loki just laughs at me. "Well, who knows? Maybe they'll kill me and every man who goes with me. It's hard to say at this point. I know that _someone_ is definitely going to die."

Probably a lot of monks who just don't see it coming and don't have any way to defend themselves. It's not impossible for something to happen to Sanzo. Or Goku even.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach and I seriously want to throw up. I seriously want to kill Loki with my bare hands.

I can't though. If I try it here and now, his men will be in the way. There's only one thing I _can_ do to keep any of that from happening.

My mouth is dry as I say, "Recon, right? That's all? You just wanna' know…how to get in and out without anyone seeing you?"

"Precisely." He smiles that much more. He's got a piranha mouth.

I think I'm going to be sick.

"Alright." I mutter. "If that's all you want…I can do that. But you gotta' swear no one will ever find out. And nobody gets hurt."

"I'm not going to tell anyone—what could I gain from that?—and as for no one getting hurt, I'd say that's completely up to you. Other than that, I'd say we have a deal."

I wince a little. "Yeah. Deal. I'll get the info for you by the end of the week."

"The end of the week?" he cocks a suspicious eyebrow at me, "Sounds like stalling to me. You're not going to run off and _tell_ your monk friend are you?"

I would, if I thought Sanzo wouldn't kill me. He already said not to do shit that would bite him in the ass later.

Maybe though. If I have until the end of the week that buys me time to figure something else out.

"No. But Hakkai's in town. I just need to wait until he's…gone again."

The words are black and crushing.

Loki can obviously see that. He laughs at me again, "How touching. You know, I don't blame you if you'd rather not have him find out. He'll be _so_ disappointed to know about our agreement."

I have no doubt about that.

"The end of the week then." He says, dismissively. "And don't forget about Kumotte tomorrow."

"End of the week. No problem."

"I'm not so sure, Gojyo. I'm not so sure there's no problem… Just be at Kumotte on time tomorrow, and then I guess we'll find out if there's a problem or not."

I don't even need to wait that long. I know there's a problem already—a big, big problem.

* * *

**Hakkai**

For approximately ninety seconds after Gojyo's been gone, I'm inexpressibly bewildered by the fact that he's gone and by the manner in which he left and the vague, indiscernible reason he gave me for going, but then, immediately after that, the irritation sets in.

"Of all ways to behave!" I throw the door shut after him and practically stomp back into the kitchen, beginning to put away the cards and the chips and the sake. Out of half-hearted curiosity, I overturn his hand to see what he had, see that it's a flush. I had a pair. To think that if he'd just played the hand out he would have beaten me, but no, he rushed out of here in such a flustered state, perhaps he didn't even take note of what a good hand he had.

He was acting strange for most of the day. Admittedly, after my conversation with Sanzo this morning, I hadn't quite known what to say to him or how to bring up the concerns I had to voice, but he'd been strange too, and I'd felt out of touch with him all day, but I hadn't expected him to just get up and leave without even telling me why. Now, who knew when he'd be back? I couldn't even say where he was, because he hadn't bothered to tell me. I'd seen him staring fixedly at the clock for the last hour, but I hadn't thought it was because he had anywhere to be.

Disgustedly, I throw all the poker paraphernalia in a drawer and look around the house, trying to decide what in the world I should do now. I left my house in such a hurry, I didn't so much as pack a book, and it goes without saying that none of my belongings are here, so I'm at a loss for how I should entertain myself. Making dinner now seems a waste of time, since I'll be the only one around to eat, and I don't feel like cooking for myself. I had wanted to spend the evening with Gojyo and perhaps get to the bottom of his strange behavior.

I'd been so close to bringing up everything that's been concerning me these last two days, but he hadn't even been listening to me. Perhaps if I hadn't given such a verbose preamble, I could have reached the heart of the matter more quickly, and then, perhaps, he might have stayed and heard me out, but it was a delicate matter, one I didn't want to jump into indiscriminately. I want to trust Gojyo and give him the benefit of the doubt, I don't want to believe the things Sanzo told me, in spite of all I've seen and heard since I arrived here, and I certainly don't want to scare him off or do anything to prompt him to withdraw. Honestly, I don't even want to make him uncomfortable, because I can sense how troubled his mind is when I'm with him, and all I want is to help, and I want him to see my desire plainly. I don't want him thinking I'm not on his side.

Of course, now he's gone, and I don't know when my next opportunity to speak with him about these weighty matters might be.

Not knowing what else to do, I throw myself headfirst into cleaning the house more, but I already got most of it done, and now it's just detail work. I seethe as I clean, and mumble to myself, and I wonder over and over where on earth he's gotten to. He said he had something to do, but I can't imagine what. The only thing I've ever known Gojyo to do is party, and I will be _so_ annoyed if that's what he's up to tonight. He doesn't have even a shred of a business life, and even if he did, what sort of business could he be conducting in the middle of the night?

When he comes back, I'll have quite an earful to give him. It's inexcusable to go off and leave me here this way, without so much as a crossword puzzle to work on. After all, even though we lived together for years, I'm still his guest now, and it's simply rude to leave me alone and expect me to entertain myself.

And that thing he said.

I think about that as I'm cleaning out the refrigerator.

_'I don't want you to come'._

What in the world is that attitude about? He's never said such a thing to me before, and I must admit, I'm hurt to have heard it. Where would he go and what would he be doing that he wouldn't want me to accompany him to?

_Don't want me to…_

Doesn't he realize I came back here more or less for the sole purpose of seeing him? I don't want to sit up alone until five in the morning, waiting for him to come home, like a single mother with a teenager who's acting out. He should have outgrown this behavior by now. He shouldn't be behaving so insensitively and thoughtlessly.

I think back on our conversation. Apparently he deduced from a slip of my tongue, that I didn't exactly plan to come back here and see him this week—no, I came as soon as I could after I received Sanzo's letter—but never-the-less, I came back to see him. I came back because I'm worried about him. And yes, I'm missing quite a lot of school in order to do so, but it's worth it to me. I didn't want to tell him that, because I don't want him to feel guilty for it, but it is the secret truth. I'm missing work, I'm missing out on money, I'm missing class, I'm missing assignments, and I'll have to work extra hard when I go home to catch up, academically and financially. I've missed out on a date, as I told him, I've driven for hours, I've literally put my entire life on hold, I spent last night sleeping on the floor, and now he pulls something like this.

"Sometimes I really cannot believe him." I tell Jeep, who's watching me work from the top of the couch.

Jeep croons softly at me.

I know. I know it isn't really Gojyo's fault, because he doesn't know just how much I've sacrificed to be here, and I haven't been totally honest with him, so he doesn't know how worried I am. I know that I can't afford to expect more from him, really, but can I help it if I do anyway? I know exactly what he's capable of, and I know he could turn all this around, if he wanted to. I know he could be doing twice as well, if not better, than he is now, so yes, I expect a little more from him than I'm getting, because he's certainly capable of doing more.

But to run off and leave me here like this, to tell me, straight-faced, coldly, that he doesn't even _want_ me to go with him…

I want to think that it's not even like him to act that way, but I know that it is. I know that he's like that, and I've tolerated it for years, and now I'm wondering how much longer I'll have to tolerate it.

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind when he comes back, whether that's in ten minutes or ten hours, whether he's drunk or sober or exhausted, I hardly care. This is unacceptable."

I continue to clean as much as I can, and as I go along, I do start to calm myself down a little. What Gojyo did was rude and inconsiderate, but he must have some reason for doing it. Whether or not it's a good reason remains to be seen, but either way, as long as I can get some explanation from him when he comes back, I'll feel that much better. I want to think he has a good reason, I want to think the best of him, and being angry like this isn't solving anything, so I take a break and sit down, make myself some tea and read the newspaper that's lying around, and I do the best I can to compose my thoughts. Jeep comes and lies on my lap, and that helps as well.

Gojyo must be having some sort of interpersonal trouble, because he's acting distraught and bothered, and what I want, more than anything, is to help him sort that out. That's my reason for being here.

I consider how he acted at the restaurant today, and how he got up to leave us, abruptly, right after that strange man brought him the paper. I didn't get a good look at the note, but I had seen that it had someone's scratchy, jaunty handwriting on it, and it had definitely gotten Gojyo out of sorts. I wonder if that note had anything to do with where he is now.

"I can only hope that when he returns he'll be willing to explain it to me."

Jeep chirps and nudges my hand.

I finish the tea, and then I do feel much better, so I get up to finish cleaning. The house looks nearly perfect now, and the last thing I can think to do is to tidy the bedroom, perhaps even make the bed so that he'll feel inclined to stop sleeping on the couch and actually return to his own bed.

The first thing I do is sort through the laundry, dividing it into a clean and a dirty pile. I take the dirty clothes to the laundry room, and I fold the clean clothes and put them away. I tidy his personal belongings so that everything is neat and organized, and I take the blankets down from the windows and tuck them back into the linen closet, and then the room is much more pleasant, but I leave the bra that's hanging from the light fixture alone, because I don't know where it's been, and I'm not inclined to touch it. I bring clean sheets and blankets to make the bed.

He shouldn't really be sleeping on the couch when he's injured anyway.

I start putting the fitted sheet onto the mattress, but hesitate because there's something already stuffed under the top, right corner of the bed, and I've never known Gojyo to purposely stash anything there—nothing is so valuable to him that he needs to go hiding it, not even money.  
It looks like a plastic bag.

My first inclination is to leave it alone, because it must be something very personal to him, and I didn't come in here to snoop around.

Then curiosity gets the best of me, and I'm just annoyed enough with him not to care, so I lift that corner of the mattress a little and pull the object loose.

It is a baggie, just as I suspected, but it's bigger than I thought, bulging with white powder, and if I had to guess, it weighs half a pound.

I've never done anything stronger than herbal tea and alcohol, but I know drugs when I see them.

I hold the drugs in my hand, and I begin to tremble, "What…in the world…?"

Immediately, my mind is a blur of rapid-action thoughts. I nearly put them back where I found them, but I don't know if I should. I don't know if I should confront him. I've never known Gojyo to take drugs, and yet, depending on what they are, this could explain everything. His behavior and his moods and his oddities and even the fact that Sanzo thinks he was trying to kill himself could all be explained by the white powder I've found.

Then I start to pace, back and forth through his room, all thoughts of cleaning and making the bed gone from my mind. Three questions race through my mind over and over: what exactly is he doing, why is he doing it, and now, what should _I_ do about it, having found out this way?

It's the sort of thing that should be confronted, that's the only thing I know. I don't think I can find some questionable, potentially illegal substance under Gojyo's mattress and just ignore it.

How to go about bringing it up though…

The more I consider it, the angrier I feel.

Now it doesn't matter that he left without explaining things to me, and it doesn't matter that he didn't invite me along. In fact, now that action makes sense, because obviously the note he got, his rushing off, and this bag of drugs, are all connected in some way.

But I am angry.

I'm angry that he's acting so stupid, inexplicably, and for no reason, and at his age. If he'd been experimenting with drugs when we were in our early twenties, I probably would have rolled my eyes and looked the other way, because people in their twenties do things like that.

But now he's thirty, and in my opinion, he should be getting out of doing these sorts of irresponsible things and moving towards making some sort of adult life for himself. He's _not_ a child anymore. Doesn't he realize that?

I'm also angry that he's put me in this position: he's gone off the deep end and is dabbling in drugs, is probably in deep with drug dealers and drug lords and other junkies, and his behavior has been so sporadic and dangerous, Sanzo called me back here, and I've put my life on hold. Yes, it looks that way. I've put my life on hold because my best friend is some sort of druggie now, and he's dead-set on ruining his life, and it's my responsibility to save him from that _because_ I'm his best friend.

It's all very clear now. This is why he's been sleeping so much and eating so little, and why his mood has been so subtly off, and why he's been acting strange, why his house was so filthy when I arrived, and most importantly, this is obviously why he went on Sanzo's mission alone, almost got himself killed, and now is neglecting his subsequent injuries.

I can't even begin to express to myself just how angry that all makes me. I mean, I have certainly seen Gojyo do his share of irresponsible, idiotic things, but this obscures them all.

Now it's time to make a plan. Bless Sanzo, in all his earthly wisdom, for sending for me, because I'm the only one who can fix this problem, and he knew it. This is more than likely the thing he was talking about this morning. He didn't want to tell me Gojyo's on drugs, because I wouldn't have believed him, and he thought it would be best for Gojyo himself to admit it to me, which he undoubtedly will, eventually.

However, I don't have time to wait for that. It could take him days to tell me, or weeks, or maybe even months, and I can't go home until this is settled, so I have to confront it as soon as possible. I know he'll tell me about it, on his own time, even if it's only because he has an overdose one night and I have to drag him to the hospital, but there's no time for that, and it's not a risk I'm willing to take.

The plan begins to form in my mind only a minute or so after the drugs have been found.

I'll wait for him to come home, all night if I must, and if he's not back in a reasonable amount of time—let's say three hours—I'll go find him. I'll present the evidence to him and demand to know what it is and listen to whatever ridiculous excuse he's bound to give me, and then we'll talk about it. We'll get to the heart of the matter, discuss it—thoroughly—and when he's confessed everything to me and admitted how entangled he is in the drug world and told me exactly how scared and ashamed he is, we'll pack our bags and get in the Jeep and go straight back to my house, and he'll check into a rehab facility, whether he wants to or not, and then, maybe, when he's clean, I'll consider letting him decide on his next move in life.

It's a severe plan, and Gojyo won't like it, even a little, but it's for the best, and I'm going to run with it. The bottom line in this situation is, he's out of control, and he needs me to step in, and if I don't, he's probably going to get himself killed, and then that blood will be on my hands, because I know what he's doing, and if I choose not to react, I'll be responsible for whatever becomes of him. So the plan must be put into action, and there's not a moment to lose.

Three hours. That's all the time I'm giving him to come home, and then I'll go find him.

All there is to do now is wait, so I leave his room the way it is, with the clean linens sitting in a heap on the floor, and walk, unsteadily, back to the kitchen, drugs in one hand. I'm shaking so badly, I stumble along the way and barely manage to catch myself against the wall. I'm on the brink of vomiting, but I overcome that urge, and sink down at the kitchen table, stashing the drugs away in my pocket.

Then I sit, facing the door, not so much as twitching, merely listening to the racing, frightening pound of my own heart beat.


	7. Chapter 7

**This is where the shit begins to hit the fan, so you all might as well give up hope for happy feelings in this fic for a while. You've been fairly warned. =]**

* * *

_I hear you label me a liar…_

**Gojyo**

* * *

I was only gone for two and a half hours. One hour to walk there, one hour to walk back, about twenty minutes of dealing with Loki, and a cushion of ten minutes, for good measure.

Not too bad. I mean, Hakkai will still be mad at me for running off on him when I get home, but right now, it's the least of my problems.

Loki wants me to help him rip off Keiun temple. I bought myself a few days, but I don't know what good it'll do. I do know that I definitely can't go through with that, or my life will get fucked up beyond repair. Even if Sanzo and the others never find out, the guilt will probably eat at me until I tell them on my own, and then…

But, no reason to freak out about it now, as long as I can come up with a plan to get out of the heist.

The smartest thing to do is go home and tell Hakkai.

Still, if I come right out and own up to working with Loki, he's gonna' be pissed off, and he'll probably lecture me for hours. It won't be like Sanzo's quick 'don't do anything that'll bite me in the ass'.

More importantly, I don't want him to know I've been working with Loki. I don't want him to know how weird things are around here. He needs to go back to school thinking I've got a handle on everything.

And most importantly, I do not want to drag him into a fight with Loki's gang

So what do I do?

I could tell him I heard about the heist on the grape vine, or that I overheard Loki's guys talking about it. He might believe that. Then, knowing him, he'll probably come up with something right off the top of his head to solve the issue—he's not going to want to _start_ a fight without having a good reason—I'm sure he'll have some genius, non-violent solution. We could even use the idea of me doing the reconnaissance to our advantage, if I pitch it to him like it's an idea I came up with myself.

Yeah, that seems like the best thing to do. So delivering the drugs tomorrow is going to be the last thing I do for Loki, and I'm more than fine with that.

All this will get worked out at some point, so there's no reason to worry about it. Right now, what I do need to worry about is the fact that Hakkai's going to be angry when I get home, and he'll want to know where I went, so on my way back, I put some thought into how I can deal with that. First, I grab a pizza, and that takes up my last eight-hundred yen, but he'll be glad he doesn't have to cook. Now, I'm thinking of an excuse. It's easier when I'm alone and it's quiet and I can actually focus.

Here's the story, Hakkai:

Today when I got that note, it was from Rong, who as you know, wants to kick my ass and put me in my place—that's why it got me all freaked out—the note said to meet him in a half hour so we could work shit out, and when I didn't go over there right away, he got pissed off and came to beat me up. That didn't work out for him, and now I feel bad about the whole thing, because Rong and me have been running buddies a long time, and it's not cool to let that fall apart over some stupid comment I made when I was drunk. But I know he gets off work at eight, so I had to hurry to catch him, because I didn't want to show up at his house and have to talk to him _and_ his girlfriend. I didn't want Hakkai to go with me, because that might look too intimidating, and, the only truth in the story: I told him I didn't want him to come because it was the only thing I could think of to make him stay behind.

It's not a perfect story, but it's good enough, and if there are any gaps in it that he has questions about, I'll just have to make up answers for them in the spur of the moment.

On the other hand, it's _close_ to perfect, because he'll be happy I'm trying to make amends with Rong, and he'll think I'm acting like an adult, and he'll completely understand why I had to rush off and why I was distracted all night, and why he wasn't allowed to come. We'll move past it like dudes, have some pizza, drink some beer, maybe play a little more cards, and go to bed feeling like everything is cool, then tomorrow, I'll tell him Rong and his girl invited me to lunch just so we can really clear the air, and that's how I'll get to Kumotte to make Loki's drop.

Hell, let's go the extra mile. I'll sleep in my bed tonight, just so I can grab the drugs that are stashed under my mattress, and he won't think that's weird either. In fact, he'll be thrilled, because even though he hasn't said anything about it, I can tell he's not cool with me sleeping on the couch every night.

Then, when that's all over, and I've got the money for delivering the heroin, I'll lie to him and tell him I overheard about Loki's heist, he'll come up with some plan or other, I'll suggest the recon idea, which will fit in perfectly with setting Loki up, then I'll probably even get paid the four million yen, which I can definitely use if I'm going to be looking for a new way to make money, and then we can shut Loki down before Hakkai goes back to school. It's perfect.

Who knows? If this all goes right, maybe Hakkai will leave at the end of the week assuming I'm doing just fine. And why not? I am doing just fucking fine. Everything is totally, totally cool.

Things will be even better after I make that drop tomorrow—I really don't want to be caught up in the middle of a gang war.

The house is in sight, and I'm whistling and smoking a cigarette. The pizza is still hot, and it smells fucking awesome, and I'm starving, and Hakkai's around. I'm not drunk for the first time in weeks, I've got it all worked out how I'm going to fix the mess I made, and this could be the best night I've had in months.

_Loki's gonna' be sorry he even thought about ripping off Sanzo._

It all starts right here with making up with Hakkai and convincing him I went to see Rong.

I just have to remember, even if he's mad when I go in, as long as I stick to the story and make him hear me out, things will work out perfectly. He's going to listen to me, I know that, because he's going to _want_ to listen to me. He's going to want to believe things are as cool as I say they are, and as long as I'm convincing, he will.

On the front step, I take a deep breath, run through my story one last time, and then go in. "Heeey, I'm back."

The house looks even cleaner than the way I left it, so he probably went into some neat-freak cleaning frenzy after I went out, because he was mad as hell. It smells like candles are burning somewhere, but it doesn't smell like he's been cooking, so my pizza is going to be more than welcome, whether he's annoyed or not.

Hakkai's sitting at the kitchen table with Jeep roosting on his shoulder, not moving, just looking at me. He doesn't say anything.

I grin at him, "I picked up dinner."

He still doesn't move. In fact, I don't think he's even blinked yet.

There's a weird, tight, little frown on his face that I can't understand at the moment, but it'll clear itself up when he starts talking to me, which should be any second now.

"Supreme, like you like. With all the onions and mushrooms and peppers and healthy crap you're into." I set the pizza on the table, right in front of him, smiling my absolute best.

He still doesn't move.

"Um." I sit down across from him. Then I bite my lip, just a little. "Look…I know you're mad… Will you just let me explain what happened?"

He's staring straight into my eyes without flinching. It's really kind of freaky. His expression…I can't figure out what it means.

I wait for him to say something—he's got to want an explanation. He's got to be planning to lecture me. He had to have sat here for the last two-and-a-half hours, going over and over how he's going to yell at me and what he's going to say, just like how I went over and over the story I'm about to tell him. So why isn't he doing it?

"Damn, I'm tired." As soon as I say it, I realize it's true. I got plenty of sleep, so I have no right to be, but I am. I'm definitely exhausted. Maybe it's just all this drama I keep having to put up with; I've never been good at dealing with drama.

I scrape the hair out of my eyes and rub my neck, but he's still being weird and quiet, so I figure I better kick things off. "Hey, I'm sorry I ditched you—and I was gone longer than I meant to be—but I had to take care of some business."

Finally, he speaks. But it's that deadly serious tone that usually scares the shit out of me. It's not his normal angry voice. Not at all. He's way angrier about this than he should be.

"What sort of business?"

I'm not ready for that level of anger, and it totally derails my train. "Uhh…it was…"

He slides up out of his chair, smoothly, goes to stand at the sink for a moment, bracing himself there, hunching over, almost like he's going to hurl.

"Dude, you okay?"

"What sort of business?" He repeats, but his tone doesn't change at all. It almost sounds like he knows something he shouldn't.

He didn't _follow_ me to Loki's brothel, did he? Just the idea of that scares the living shit out of me.

Hakkai turns to me, giving me a long, narrow-eyed look. It's his scary face, and that's a face no one wants to see, ever.

"Man, how pissed off are you? I wasn't gone that long-"

Suddenly, he throws something down on the table, and it hits with a loud, smacking sound.

I stare at it.

It's that fat baggie bulging with white powder. It's a half pound of heroin. Loki's goddamn heroin.

Oh. Shit.

_Shit_.

"Would you mind explaining to me…what in the _fuck_ that is?"

I think it's probably the first time in my life I've heard him say 'fuck' like that, so he is beyond pissed, and now I understand why.

My mind races. Everything I was just about to tell him isn't even important now. He probably couldn't care less where I went or what I did—in fact, he probably assumes he knows exactly where I was and what I was doing. I try to find a good excuse, but I don't have one, because he wasn't supposed to find that. He wasn't supposed to find it, ever.

"Dude." I glare at him. "Not cool. You weren't supposed to go digging through my room-"

"Oh! Is _that_ the excuse you're going to give me? Shift the blame at once? How typical. How in character. And _why_ is that, Gojyo? I wonder? Is it because I might find your stash of illegal substances?"

"No. Because it's my fucking room." I cough.

"Believe me, I couldn't care _less_ about that at the moment; I demand to know what this is."

What should I tell him now? Even my pizza can't fix this.

I sit back in my chair and drag off my cigarette, not answering for at least five minutes, and he just waits. I know he'll wait all night if he has to, but I'm not getting out of here without telling him something, so I try to figure out what the best thing is for me to do. If I tell him the truth, that opens a huge can of worms that I don't even want to begin to deal with, because the truth is, I've been doing a ton of illegal shit lately. Probably the only thing I _haven't_ been doing is the heroin on the table. But I don't want him to know I'm doing work for Loki. I really, really don't.

Especially now with this heist hanging up over my head.

_Shit._

Depending on how I handle this, it could wreck everything.

Is it worth it though, to let him think I'm on drugs? Could that be any worse?

If I lie, he's going to think I'm a junky, and he's probably going to freak out.

What about the truth anyway?

Originally, I thought that if Hakkai and the others knew I was working for Loki, they'd be pretty mad about it, but probably not mad enough for it to be a huge deal; now, there's no way I can tell him I deal drugs for Loki _and_ lie about overhearing Loki's plan to raid Keiun. Hakkai's a smart guy. He's going to know Loki asked me to help raid the temple.

What's worse, if I don't help Loki with the recon, he _will_ go up there and shoot everyone who gets in his way, just so he can walk away with whatever it is he wants.

I'm pretty sure if the whole truth comes out, about everything I'm doing, the guys won't believe I'm not intending to do the reconnaissance. If they know what an illegal fuck I've been acting like—and Sanzo knows at least part of that—they're going to figure I've turned on them, and that's going to suck.

Far be it from Sanzo to intervene in my crappy life, but Hakkai and Goku are definitely going to insist that I stop; bailing on Loki will be easier said than done. When I agreed to start working for him, I told him one of the conditions was that I could stop whenever I wanted, and I'm going to stick to that, but I know he'll probably try to kill me when he doesn't have a use for me anymore, and I _still_ don't want to drag Hakkai into a huge, bloody gang fight.

So what about a lie?

Hakkai's going to think I'm doing drugs, and then he's going to freak out, and then he'll probably quit school, move back here to watch over me, or, if he doesn't have time for that, throw me in rehab, or some crazy thing, until it all blows up in my face, and that'll be just about the same as telling him the truth right here and now.

I think what scares me the most about that is that the guys might decide I'm just not worth all the hassle.

Fuck.

He was not supposed to find that.

I'm an idiot for keeping it here in the first place: Loki's pissed, Hakkai thinks I'm depressed and on drugs, and I didn't even get paid for taking it to the buyer. I really wish I'd just dropped it off like I was supposed to.

_How do I keep making these incredibly stupid mistakes?_

"What is it?" Hakkai demands, harshly.

"Um. I'm gonna' guess heroin." I poke at it. "Could be cocaine though. I'm not really sure-"

"Is this _funny_ to you?"

"Absolutely not." Nothing's ever been truer, because there's nothing funny about this situation at all.

"I don't care what particular substance is in that bag, all I care to know is what drugs are doing hidden in your room."

I sigh and stand up. "All right, look-"

Hakkai gets right in my face the second I'm on my feet, like he thinks I'm going to run or attack him or something, "Don't you dare give me some flippant, stupid, childish excuse for this, Gojyo. I want a full explanation, right now, so sit down and give it to me."

"Dude, what're you, my mother?"

He looks like he could break my neck.

I stay standing, but I do take a step back, "This isn't how it looks, Hakkai."

"Care to clarify what it is you mean by that? Because to me, it looks as if you're either using or dealing narcotics, and in either case, it's not a good conclusion to arrive at."

"See? No. No conclusion-jumping. Like I said, it's not how it looks, so I'm not using _or_ dealing drugs."

"You certainly seem to have a lot of them for not taking either of those actions."

"I know, but I swear to you, it's not like that."

From the way he glares at me, I can tell he's not happy with my answer, and he doesn't believe me at all."

Desperately, I try to think of a way to talk my way out of this. "Isn't that enough, Hakkai? Don't you trust me?"

"_Trust_ you?" He sounds totally outraged, so maybe that was the wrong direction to go.

Nothing to do but run with it now.

"Yeah. I mean, here I am, your oldest, closest, best friend, telling you, _promising_ you, that I'm not taking drugs, and I'm not dealing them, and you don't believe me."

"This is not an issue of trust!" He practically screams, jabbing a finger at the heroin, "This is not an issue of how long we've known each other or how close we are! Do not even _begin _to attempt to back-pedal out of this by guilt-tripping me and attempting to turn this around and make _me _look like the one who's acting in the wrong! That, whatever it is, was in your room, and by all means, you should have absolutely no good reason for that, so unless the answer to my question is 'someone else planted it there without my knowledge' do not accuse me of mistrusting you, especially not when, these days, you're the one who's acting as if he can't trust _me_!"

"No, no, no." I feel panic starting to swell inside me. I don't want him to not trust me. I don't want him to freak out. I don't want things to start falling apart, because I'm not in a good place for putting things back together right now. "That isn't—" I break off suddenly into a coughing fit, which goes on way too long, and is super awkward, because the whole time, Hakkai is just standing there, glaring at me, politely, and angrily, waiting to hear what I have to say.

It finally ends, and I manage to gasp out, "T-that isn't what I meant, okay? I trust you. Yeah, of course I trust you."

"Then tell me what's going on."

"It's a misunderstanding." I'm still wheezing a little, trying to catch my breath.

"This is more than a misunderstanding, Gojyo."

"They're not my drugs, okay? I'm just holding them for somebody."

"Who?"

"That's none of your business."

"Then you have yet to convince me that these are not your drugs."

Suddenly, I sit back down, feeling even more exhausted than ever, and almost light-headed, rub my face, "Oh my God, dude, this is so messed up." I can't tell him the truth. I really, really can't. "They're not my drugs, okay? I don't know how to make you believe that—I can't—you just have to trust me, Hakkai. Please."

Angrily, he grabs the collar of my jacket—that's happening way too often tonight—"I _do_ trust you. I trust you with my very life, Gojyo, and that's the only reason I'm giving you this exclusive opportunity to explain this to me and be honest with me, before I really, _really_ lose my composure."

That sounds like super bad news.

"Again, my trust in you is not what matters in this situation. I found drugs in your room; how is that supposed to make me feel?"

"I-"

"It's bad enough that I've come back here to find you in a state of utter disarray: the house is trashed, _you're_ trashed, there's no food, there's no money, and now this stash of drugs. What am I supposed to think?"

I could definitely see his point there. Hakkai already thinks I'm acting weird, and now there are drugs in my bedroom—I know exactly what he's supposed to think, if I can't give him a good alternative.

Too bad I don't have one.

I try one more time.

"I'm not doing drugs."

"Why do you have them?"

"I'm holding them for somebody else."

"Who? And why?"

"Because."

Apparently he's had enough. He shakes his head and grabs the baggie off the table, turns toward the sink. "I'm going to dispose of this."

I get up again, fast. "Wait, wait, don't do that."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Shit, why do you think? We can't just go pouring someone else's drugs down the drain, Hakkai."

He studies me a long moment. "Where did you go just now?"

I used to have a great answer to that, and I used to have it figured out exactly how I'd say it, but now all of that is gone. I just stutter, "T-to see Rong."

"Rong? Rong whom you've been feuding with? Remarkable."

"We-"

"Do tell, why have you been fighting in the first place? I seem to recall that you didn't want to disclose that information earlier."

"Nothing. Something really stupid."

"Stupid?" He holds the baggie up. "Stupid like this, perhaps?"

"No."

For some reason, it looks like he's angrier than ever. He throws them down again, and this time the bag bursts along the seam, and some heroin spills out. "Fine. I'm not your parent, and it isn't my responsibility to sort this out, nor is it my job to force you to act responsibly, but keep in mind that when this blows up in your face—because it surely will—I won't necessarily feel inclined to come to your rescue: you may have to deal with the consequences of your carelessness by yourself, for once."

Something…

Something about hearing him say that makes me feel like I'm sinking.

Like I'm drowning.

Maybe it's because those are the exact words I never wanted to hear him say, not because I think I can't deal with the consequences of my carelessness by myself, but because it sounds an awful lot like the first step toward giving up on me completely.

Weird, I never thought before that Hakkai even _could_ give up on me, but right now, knowing everything, being so close to the brink of him knowing those things too…I'm really scared that he might.

I practically fall back into my chair and stare across the kitchen, not answering, not sure how I should answer in the first place. The desperation and the hopelessness in me feels heavier than it ever has before.

Hakkai waits a moment, then he sighs, takes the drugs, and turns away without another word.

Heart clenching, I call after him, "Dude, Hakkai…" But I have no idea what to say, so I stop there. It's just that I can't believe he's walking away from me like that, and it hurts. Fuck. It hurts so much.

"I'll be holding onto these, I believe."

My eyes get huge, and I whip around, but everything I could possibly say gets caught in my throat, and nothing comes out of my mouth.

He goes into my room and shuts the door.

I _just_ told Loki I'd deliver that heroin tomorrow.

Barely thinking about it, I go after him, but the bedroom door is locked. I pound on it, "Hey, man, not cool."

"I don't know what you're referring to, seeing how there are a lot of things that are 'not cool' right now."

"That's not yours."

"Apparently it's not yours either, so I can't see what difference it makes."

"I have to fucking give it back to the person who _does_ own it."

"Oh, I'm sure. You'd love for me to believe that, wouldn't you?"

"Dammit, Hakkai! Give me my heroin!"

The door flies open, nearly hitting me in the face, and I'm looking into flashing, angry, green eyes, "_Your_ heroin now?"

"Slip of the fucking tongue. Give it here."

"Ha! Why would you even _ask_ me to do that? You must know that's absurd."

"Look, you sonnova' bitch, that shit is _not_ mine, and I don't want the asshole who it does belong to coming here and breaking my legs over it, got that?"

"You know, for all the things you've said in the last ten minutes, not one of them has convinced me that this isn't your heroin."

"Use your fucking head, Hakkai. Look how much damn heroin that is—how could I possibly pay for that? I told you over and over I have no money."

"Obviously this is _why_ you have no money."

I could just about rip my hair out. Or his face off. "You have to listen to me. First of all, this is none of your business, Hakkai, whether that's my heroin or someone else's-"

"How is this not my business?"

"How _is_ it?!"

"My best friend may or may not be ruining his life with _the_ most addictive drug known to man, and you're telling me that's not my business?"

"Even if it _is_ your business, that doesn't matter, because I'm _not_ ruining my life with _any_ drugs! And if I don't take that back to the person it belongs to tomorrow, it's going to be a big fucking mess!"

He gives me a long, stern look, but instead of screaming at me, he suddenly asks, "Tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow."

"When?"

"Noon. Why?"

"You're honestly taking this out of here tomorrow and returning it to someone who's asked you to hold onto it for them temporarily? You're not selling it?"

"No, I'm not selling it." It's not _really_ a lie. I'm not getting a yen for the heroin, just my delivery fee.

"Very well then, if that's true, I'll make a deal with you."

"Great. Anything." I cough again, and my throat is starting to hurt from all this damn coughing.

"I'll hang onto this until tomorrow, and then tomorrow, you and I will go together to return it to this person of yours, and that is the _only_ way I'll believe you're telling me the truth."

I can barely stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Anything less than that, and I'll assume that's a lie, and you're either using or dealing this filth."

"Fine. Deal. Whatever you want, man. Just do _not_ flush it down the fucking toilet."

He cocks an eyebrow at me, and then shuts the door in my face.

I watch a moment, kind of wishing he'd come back, and then I go into the kitchen.

Well fuck. _Fuck_. Fuck me dead. Now what? If I take Hakkai with me to Kumotte tomorrow and he sees me exchanging money with some asshole he's really going to think I'm a drug dealer. Or else Loki's going to show up—because that dick doesn't care about whether or not Hakkai knows I'm working with him—and then the cat's really going to be out of the bag.

I _can't_ take Hakkai to Kumotte. That will never work out right. No way—if anything, it's going to be even worse than this, if that's possible at all.

Hakkai knowing I'm working for Loki is definitely worse than Hakkai thinking I'm a junky, I decide suddenly. If he thinks I'm a junky, he's going to worry about me and nag at me and do everything he can think of to try to help me get clean, because he's my buddy, and he's like that.

If he knows I do shit for an asshole like Loki, somebody I know he despises, he'll be pissed. If he finds out about the heist…

I'm not sure what he'll do, but it's going to suck a lot. He's probably going to stop talking to me. Maybe he'll just stop associating with me completely.

_Does it really matter, Gojyo? Be real. You haven't even seen him or talked to him in a whole year. What difference does it make…? What difference does it make now?_

Furiously, I pick up the pizza I brought home and sling it across the kitchen, and it plows through some glasses that are sitting on the counter, drying. They all go flying, and glass scatters across the counter and the sink and the floor.

I put my cigarette out and slink back into the living room and stretch out on the couch, and I think.

There is only one answer I can think of. It's not a great answer. In fact, it's probably a bad idea—a really bad idea—but it's the only thing I can think of. Maybe if Loki wasn't involved, like if the creep wasn't going to just pop up out of nowhere, I could take Hakkai to the meet, and that would be okay. But I can't even risk that someone Hakkai knows is associated with Loki might be there, and that's almost guaranteed, because I fucked up the first meet, and now Loki's going to be keeping an eye on me to make sure that this meet goes off without a hitch, so he'll definitely be sending someone to supervise.

If I can get over this speed bump though, and Hakkai never finds out about Loki, I can get back on track to stopping the heist before it happens, and with any luck, without bloodshed.

All of that leaves only one option.

I have to get back the heroin tonight, without him noticing, and then sneak out early tomorrow, before he figures out what's going on—maybe even before he wakes up—hide out until noon, get to Kumotte on time, do the thing, get my delivery fee, and come home and face the music. The music of my buddy be super annoyed with me, the lecture that always comes with that, no matter what I tell him, and the possibility of winding up in rehab when I really don't need to be there.

Still, even if I do wind up in rehab, I can still tell Hakkai what I overheard about Loki trying to rip off Keiun. Kumotte is the perfect place to accidentally overhear shit like that.

I could still make this work out okay. Not as perfect as before, but at least okay.

The only thing I definitely can't do is miss the meet tomorrow, because that will turn into a huge, huge problem with either Loki or Rashii. Maybe even both.

I wait until it's good and late: three A.M, dead of night, when he's definitely asleep, and he's definitely not waking up for at least another four hours, and I don't sleep a wink, because I'm way too wound up, and then I get up, take off my boots, and sneak, as quietly as I possibly can, down the hall, to my room, praying the whole way that he didn't lock the door.

Lucky for me, he didn't, because he didn't think he needed to.

That makes me feel guilty, because that means he's trusting what I told him, and that means he's not totally convinced yet that I'm a junky or a dealer.

I really hate that I'm about to betray his faith in me.

I took the curtains down a long time ago, and moonlight is coming through the windows, so I can see well enough. Hakkai's lying flat on his back, like he always does, perfectly still and peaceful, breathing evenly, with Jeep curled up next to him, fast asleep.

I don't see the heroin anywhere, but I can probably figure out pretty easy where it is. The bedside table would be too obvious. He's not going to stick it back under the mattress, because that's overkill. I know he wouldn't go putting it anywhere else in my room, because it doesn't belong here, and Hakkai is a 'a place for everything and everything in its place' kinda' guy.

I figure it's under the pillow, where it's just secure enough, just close enough that he won't lose track of it, but easy to access too.

If it's not under the pillow, I'll have to deal with that, but it's definitely the first place to check.

Holding my breath, I ease my way across the room, moving slowly and taking measured steps, from heel to toe. I know this place well enough that I know the spots that creak, so I can work my way around them, and he cleaned my room while I was gone, so the floor is spotless and there's nothing to trip over. As I go, I keep my eyes fixed on his face. He can probably sense me in his sleep, but he knows who I am, and he expects my presence to be nearby, so he won't be able to pinpoint whether I'm here or in the living room. Still, I expect him to open his eyes and look at me and say 'what are you doing' at any given second.

My heart is slamming. My lungs are aching. I can feel a cough coming on, but I have to suppress it, whatever the cost. I can't risk waking him up.

I'm close. Just a few more steps to the bed.

I exhale very slowly and inhale again, freeze to make sure he didn't hear me and wake up, but he's still not twitching.

Painfully slow, I start to move again, creeping a few steps closer until I'm at the foot of the bed. I stop there to get my bearings, still fighting the tight feeling of the cough that's building in my chest.

Carefully, I start to sidle along the edge of the bed, skirting around it, making my way to the head of it.

Jeep rustles his wing and chirps quietly.

I stop dead again, counting seconds as I wait for something to happen, the tightness in my chest worse than ever.

Hakkai doesn't move. I don't think he woke up.

I still wait an extra moment, heart pounding, before I move again.

Before I know it, I'm at the head of the bed, looking down at his unmoving, sleeping face. His eyelids aren't even shuddering. He's definitely asleep. He definitely trusts me not to be doing exactly what I'm doing now.

It probably didn't even cross his mind that I might do this, because he believed what I told him.

That makes me feel so horrible, I almost turn around and walk out of the room, Loki be damned. Hakkai's trust in me is way more important than what Loki's going to do when I rip him off for a half pound of heroin.

But if I don't take it now, I won't be ripping Loki off. I'll be taking Hakkai to Kumotte, and things are going to go down the shitter, and it'll be worse than what'll happen if I get the heroin out from under his pillow.

Silently, I apologize, and then I reach out my hand, so slowly I almost feel like I'm not moving, closer and closer to the pillow.

It feels like I stand there for hours, barely moving, reaching across one little millimeter of space at a time, hand descending at a rate so slow, it probably looks like I'm just standing still.

Jeep wakes up and looks at me, but he doesn't make a sound. He knows who I am, and he knows I'm not going to hurt his master, and he has no idea what I'm doing, so there's no need to raise an alarm. He just watches with glinting, red eyes as I keep reaching, little by little, toward the pillow.

Finally, I'm there. My fingers brush across the cool texture of the fresh, clean sheets, and then I slip my hand, as slowly as possible, up under the pillow, again, barely moving, not even breathing, in case he feels my breath on his face, eyes always focused on his, until finally, I feel the plastic of the baggie, right at my fingertips.

Bingo.

A little further and I can get a grip.

I take my eyes off Hakkai for one second, just to focus on what I'm doing.

I grasp the edge of the baggie—it feels like the opening, where the zipper is—and I start to pull it, so slowly there's no way he'll feel it moving.

This is going to work. Things are going to be okay. No gang wars for me, thank-you.

An iron grip catches me by the wrist, tight.

I yelp and jerk back, stare down at Hakkai with my mouth hanging open.

He's staring up at me, smiling pleasantly. "Hello. Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm…"

"That was rhetorical. I know what you think you're doing."

"Dude, listen…"

"Unfortunately for you, you're looking in the wrong location." He sits up and flips the lamp on, without letting go of my wrist, turns the pillow over, and there's a baggie there, but it's got a couple washcloths in it, not heroin. Maybe he didn't trust me like I thought he did.

"This is not your heroin."

I try again to pull loose, but he's got me tight enough to bruise bone. "Yeah…well…"

"This." He gets the heroin out of fucking nowhere, and holds it up. "Is your heroin."

"It's not _mine_, okay?"

"Good. Because now that you've gone out of your way to prove to me that I can't trust you with it, I'll be disposing of it."

"Don't do that."

Hakkai stands up smoothly, still gripping my wrist, forces me to the side firmly, but not violently, so he can step past me. He begins walking up the hallway. "You know, earlier, I must admit I may have handled the situation incorrectly; it's really not my place to scream at you, is it? Never-the-less, the fact that you would sneak into where I'm sleeping and attempt to steal something out from under my pillow, when you already agreed to one solution to this problem, really does irritate me."

It looks like he's heading right for the bathroom.

"Hakkai!" I dive after him, making a grab for the bag as I go. He pulls it away, and it slips through my fingers.

"Wait!" I catch him by the arm.

Hakkai looks back at me with infinite patience and calm.

"Don't, dude." I pant, coughing a little now that I finally can. "You don't understand."

"That may be true, but I can't risk the possibility that you're lying to me."

"Alright, I fucked up! We'll take the drugs back tomorrow, I swear."

He just shakes his head at me, "It's very clear that that solution is unacceptable to you, and I can only think of one reason for that."

"Look." I shell my jacket off and show him my bare arms. "See any track marks?"

He's unfazed.

"I _know_ you think you're helping me, but you're not. I need you to back off of my shit and listen to me and believe me, Hakkai."

"I'm sorry, Gojyo, but I don't."

He pulls away easily and goes into the bathroom.

"Goddammit!" I slam against him and we both stagger into the wall, scuffling and fighting over the bag. He pushes me off and I fall back into the shower curtain, ripping it down, jump back up and rush him just before he can drop the heroin into the toilet. We fall over the sink, knocking over all the shaving cream and toothpaste and hair gel that's sitting on the counter, then we're flopping around on the floor, wrestling over the bag, clawing at it and tugging it back and forth.

Hakkai manages to scramble up and stand at arm's length from me, holds up his hand like he's going to keep me back, and he looks all strung out with his clothes stretched and his hair disheveled. He's holding the bag up in the other hand, suspended directly above the toilet. "This is absurd!"

I get up, a little slower than him, holding my wounded side and cursing. "Damn straight…so give that back!"

"The fact that you so badly want it only serves to prove that I'm right."

"You're _not_ right, Hakkai! Why won't you just believe me?"

"I believed you earlier and look where we are now."

"You really think I'm _lying_ to you? Why would I lie to you about this?"

"I don't know, and I can't afford to find out."

He tears the baggie and dumps the powder.

Screaming, I dive after it, but it's too late. He's already flushed, and I'm left grasping at nothing. I watch in disbelief as every last speck disappears down the drain.

"Shit!"

Hakkai stands over me a moment, watching, before he says, "Now we're bound to sort this out: if you don't go into withdrawals tomorrow, I'll believe you."

I'm furious. I'm so pissed I can barely stop myself from standing up and trashing his ass. I can't even think of one good reason not to. I surge to my feet and spin around, using every fiber of willpower in my body not to punch his face in, but I grab both his shoulders and slam him as hard as I can into the wall—so hard the wall cracks where his head hits—and Hakkai gives this surprised, pained, little shout, then looks up at me with wide, shocked eyes, mouth falling open as he stares at me.

For a second, we're right there, face-to-face, the tips of our noses just a hair's breadth from touching, and I'm shaking with fury. I barely recognize my own dark, low voice as I grate out from behind my teeth, "You. Just fucked shit up for me. Really. _Really_. Bad. Hakkai."

"I-"

I don't care about what he has to say. I throw him to the side, and he almost falls down, then I storm out of the bathroom, back through the house, and outside into the night.

* * *

**Goku**

It's like the fifth time I've knocked, and still nobody's answering me. "Guys!"

Maybe they're not even home.

I knock again, "Hey, guys!"

It's only like eleven. Gojyo's probably still asleep, but Hakkai's gotta' be up by now.

"Hey! Guys!"

Finally, the door swings open, and Gojyo's standing there looking kinda' annoyed. "What?"

"Oh, hey. Sorry…" I have no idea why I'm sorry, other than he just looks and smells _so_ annoyed.

He turns around to walk back in, "Come in."

Inside, it smells like eggs, so I guess Hakkai probably went back to the market at some point. He's in the kitchen cleaning up, with Jeep riding on his shoulder. He looks back to smile at me when I come in, "Good morning, Goku. We weren't expecting you."

"Yeah." I laugh and scratch the back of my head, "Sorry."

"Not at all. It's always a pleasure to have you." He looks at Gojyo, who's just sitting down at the table, like he wants him to agree with him, but Gojyo barely even glances at him, and he just sort of huffs.

"Isn't it?"

"Always."

In those three words they just said to each other, I immediately feel how wrong everything is. Not wrong, maybe. Just off. Like really, really super off. It's even worse than it was yesterday. Hakkai never pushes Gojyo to agree with him, he just accepts his opinion. And Gojyo should at least _try_ to joke about it, even if he's been weird lately. What's with that pouty one-word answer? Like he said it just to get out of the conversation.

Hakkai smiles at me again and echoes, "Always. Would you like some breakfast?"

"Actually, the reason I stopped by was ta' see if you guys wanna' go have lunch with me."

"Oh. Lunch… Yes, well, we've just finished eating breakfast."

"Okay, maybe coffee or tea or somethin' then? See, I was goin' to town ta' meet Dai, and I thought I'd invite ya' along. It'd be cool if ya' met her."

"Dai? Your girlfriend?"

"She's not really my girlfriend. We're just friends." I say, feeling my face turn a little hot. "She really wants ta' meet you guys."

Hakkai shrugs, "Well, of course, that sounds lovely."

Gojyo's at the table, leaning on his fist and staring into space, but he mutters under his breath, "Lovely."

"Do you wanna' go?" I ask him.

"Do I _want_ to go? Sure, I guess. I don't have anything _else_ to do today."

Hakkai shoots him a disapproving look, "You're fortunate in that, I think."

"Yeah." Gojyo laughs, then coughs, "_Thanks_, buddy, for always making sure I keep my schedule clear so that I can get the _really_ important stuff done."

"As if you have a schedule." Hakkai says dismissively.

"Who needs one? Schedules are a serious waste of time, especially if you're just gonna' wipe the whole calendar clean to run off on some spontaneous, _pointless_ vacation." He gets out of his chair and flicks his cigarette into the sink.

Hakkai gives his shoulder a light push, "You know I don't like it when you do that."

"It's my house, ain't it?"

Without a word, Hakkai slants a glance at him from the corner of his eye.

Gojyo doesn't grin or flinch like he normally would, and he doesn't back-pedal or try to cover up what he just said. He stares at Hakkai. I dunno'…defiantly, I guess.

Eventually, Hakkai smiles at him, really, really nicely, and even chuckles a little, "Then I suppose you can clean it yourself from now on."

"Sure, if I feel like it."

This…is so wrong. It's so wrong and so messed up, I really wish I didn't just invite them to go with me. They're way, way off. I mean, they're sayin' normal stuff, almost, but the way they're saying it, and the way they're looking at each other, and the tension in the air, shows me that stuff is super weird with them today. I almost wanna' know what happened, but I'm not sure.

They stare at each other a little while longer, and Hakkai's still smiling. Finally, he says, "Gojyo, I suggest you change your shirt, or perhaps even take a shower. You don't want to look disgusting if you're going to be making the acquaintance of a pretty, young lady."

"Maybe I should snort something too, while I'm at it. You know, just in case."

I have no idea what that means, but whatever he's talking about, the smile falls off Hakkai's face like an apple falling off a tree, and he frowns and opens his mouth to say something, but Gojyo's already walking away.

When he's gone and the shower's running, I wait for Hakkai to say something to me, but he just goes back to the dishes without a word, and I stand there, awkwardly, really, really wishing I could just run out the door.

Going into town with them feels even worse. If I thought they were out of sync yesterday, they're not even playing the same song today, or somethin' like that. Instead of talking about the weather, it feels like they just ignore each other, and that's weird because I've never seen them ignore each other. If they've got nothing to say to each other, it's that comfortable, easy silence. If they're mad, they bicker. I walk a few steps behind them and watch them go. They're side by side, but there's this…distance between them. Not a real distance, since they're right there, shoulder to shoulder, like always, but it _feels_ like they're miles apart. Like they're isolated. Like neither of them even notices that the other is there. When they do talk, it's just to me.

Gojyo coughs, and that seems worse than yesterday too.

"Are ya' sick?" I ask him, trotting up to walk on the other side of him.

"Naw. I don't think so."

"That cough sounds kinda' bad."

"Is there such a thing as a good cough, monkey?"

"Nn. No, I guess not." I lock my hands behind my head and try to think of something I can say that will make all these bad vibes go away. "Did'ja' guys finally get some groceries?"

"I went this morning and picked up some essential items." Hakkai tells me casually. "But the house is still poorly stocked."

"Yeah? That sucks. How much longer are ya' gonna' be here, Hakkai?"

He looks at Gojyo, and Gojyo purposely looks away from him, staring across the road into the trees.

"I suppose that depends."

That's weird.

"On what? I thought you were stayin' all week."

"It depends on a lot of things."

I wonder if they talked about all the stuff Hakkai wanted to talk about and that's why they're being so awkward and tense.

We go a couple more minutes without saying anything, and suddenly Hakkai seems nervous. He doesn't do anything to show he's nervous, 'cause he's real good at hiding that, but I can feel it and smell it.

After a while, he turns to Gojyo and asks, sincerely, "How do you feel?"

Gojyo's answer is callus and irritated, "I dunno'. Kinda' like I spent all night arguing with some twat monkey who stole something really important from me and flushed it down the toilet."

Hakkai gives him a long, annoyed look. "I don't feel much better."

Yeah. It's definitely worse than yesterday.

We get to the café kinda' early and pick a table outside, 'cause it's a warm day, and we all sit down. Hakkai orders a water, and Gojyo asks for an ashtray as he lights another cigarette.

"Perhaps." Hakkai's voice is a little more cautious than normal. "You should cut back on your smoking, since you _do_ have a nasty cough."

"You're really concerned with my health lately." Gojyo takes a long puff.

It's the first thing they've said to each other in about twenty minutes, and it's the last thing they say to each other for another ten. It's hard for me to make conversation with just one of them, 'cause I don't like feelin' like I'm leaving the other out, and I don't want them to think I'm taking a side. It's also hard to know what I can say, 'cause it feels like they're one bad word away from arguing with each other big time.

It sucks, 'cause I already told Dai about how awesome and cool and funny my friends are, and now Hakkai and Gojyo are being anything but cool and funny.

I wonder if, maybe if I can get them to talk about whatever it is they're mad about, maybe they'll make up real quick and this's'll be more normal.

Sitting back in my chair, I look at both of 'em real hard, one, then the other. Hakkai's stirring the ice in his water around with his straw, looking out at the street, absently, and Gojyo's toying with his lighter, staring down at the table like he's thinking.

"Did'ja have a fight?"

Both of 'em look at me, way surprised, like they didn't think I'd ask that, and then they look at each other.

"Not a fight, necessarily, just a disagreement."

"So, what're ya' mad at each other or somethin'?"

"I dunno." Gojyo drawls, unhurriedly, puts a cigarette out and starts another right away. "You mad at me?"

Hakkai frowns. "No." He taps lightly on the table, glances over at Gojyo a few times before asking, "Are you mad at me?"

Gojyo takes a long, slow drag off his new cigarette and exhales and ashes. "No."

That's a load of crap. It's gotta' be.

"See?" Hakkai's frown turns into an uncertain smile, "No one's angry."

I got no choice but to believe them.

"I told Dai you guys're fun."

"We _are_ fun, monkey. We're just warming up." Gojyo grins at me.

"'Kay. I just don't want this ta' be weird."

"It's not. We're just grabbing coffee right? What's weird about coffee?"

Go figure he's playin' dumb again.

"Not to worry, Goku." Hakkai speaks up. "I assure you we'll all do everything we can in order to make this experience as fun and as light-hearted as possible."

"Yeah, sure. Hey, how'd you meet this chick anyway?"

"I told ya'. I met her when I was walkin' around outside the temple. She lives a couple miles away from there."

"Do you guys hang out a lot?"

"Not a _lot_ a lot. Sometimes I go see her, or we meet up down here."

Hakkai scratches Jeep under the chin, "It seems a long walk for a young lady to make by herself, doesn't it?"

"Dunno'. She always acts like it's cool. She's pretty tough."

"Heh. She's gotta' be, if she's gonna' be with _you_, Goku-sensei."

"We're not together, stupid, like I said. We're just friends, an' I kinda' like her. I dunno' if she likes me or not."

"She's gotta', if she comes all the way down here just to see you and meet your friends and have a crappy cup of coffee."

I think about it a sec. I guess that makes sense but I dunno', 'cause it seems like it's not that big a deal, comin' over here and havin' coffee with me and my friends. But Gojyo knows a lot about women—at least he acts like he does—so if that's what he thinks, maybe he's right.

I've never had a girlfriend before, so I don't know what's normal.

There's not a lot of time to think about it. I see her come around the corner across the street and head toward us.

"There she is." I smile.

Gojyo and Hakkai turn around in their seats to look, quiet a sec, and then, "_Damn_, Goku, you _do_ have good taste in women."

I dunno' what he's talking about. I mean, Dai _is_ really pretty, I think. She's taller than a lot of girls. Her long, wavy hair is brown, but it looks red in the sunlight. Her face is really, really pretty, even though she never wears make-up, and she's not super skinny, like the girls Gojyo always chases, but she's not fat either. I dunno' what it is. She's got some meat on her, I guess, 'cause I know she likes to eat.

"She does look lovely." Hakkai says quietly.

Grinning from ear-to-ear, I get up and wave, "Hey!"

Dai smiles too and laughs, then waves back, skips across the street. Today she's wearing this flowing, orange dress with tall boots, and she's got a little backpack on that she always carries when we come down here. She comes over and hops the patio fence, "Hi!"

Dai hugs me quick. She smells like sunflowers in an open field. She's got beads in little braids, and a couple tiny, yellow flowers tangled in her hair, and I could stare forever into her deep, hazel eyes.

I point to the guys, "These're my friends."

"Hi, friends." She waves at them too, smiling still.

"That's Hakkai, an' that's Gojyo."

"Good morning, Miss Dai. We're happy you could join us."

"I'm happy too, Hakkai-san!" She swings her backpack off and drops it at her feet, and I see her little stuffed panda sticking out of the back of it, then she basically falls into her chair. "Goku talks a lot about you guys, so I really wanted to meet you."

"Oh, how nice of you to say. He's told us some wonderful things about you as well."

Dai smiles up at me, squeezes my hand, "Yeah? What a sweetie."

I feel myself blushing again.

She giggles. "We should all get something to eat! I'm starving."

"Yeah, me too! I so wanna' eat right now!" I sit down right next to her.

I hear Hakkai laughing to himself. "How delightful."

Gojyo still hasn't said nothin'. I glance at him; he's keeping his mouth shut, but he's definitely looking her all over, from top to bottom, with that look he gets when he sees a girl he likes. He smirks at me.

I try to smile back, but that look of his bothers me.

Dai's looking at him too. "Gojyo-san? You're quiet—Goku never told me you were quiet."

He's way pro at hiding the way he was just eyeing her, and he puts on his charming 'ladies man' smile. The smile he uses so they won't know he's huntin' them. I don't like that look either. "I'm just stunned. He didn't tell _me_ how pretty his girlfriend is."

She giggles again, and I watch her face turn red, and it's totally cute. "Oh. Um, thank-you."

"She's not really my girlfriend yet." I tell him again.

"Yeah?" Gojyo raises an eyebrow at her. "What's with that?"

Dai's still blushing. "Oh. I don't know… We haven't known each other very long."

"Takin' it slow, huh?" He winks at me. "Don't take it _too_ slow, kiddo', she might get away from you."

"There's nothing wrong with a little discretion, of course." Hakkai takes over, thank God.

"Discretion." Gojyo snorts and kind of snickers, "Sure. Ever heard of doing something just because it feels good, Hakkai?"

"I like to think I do many things purely for pleasure. Never-the-less, there is something in this world known as propriety." Hakkai smiles at Dai and me.

I stammer, "Oh. Uh. It ain't really about _that_." I glance at Dai, and she looks like maybe she's embarrassed. "It's more that…"

"You don't have to explain it." Hakkai tells me, matter-of-factly, then takes a sip of his water.

Gojyo agrees with him for once. "Yeah. Whatever. It's your life. Propriety's great and all, just sometimes it can be a real hassle."

"How come?"

"Kinda' depends, I guess. People do a lot of dumb shit just 'cause they think it's the right thing to do."

I frown at him, "Yeah, but we ain't-"

"He isn't talking about the two of you." Hakkai tells me quietly.

"Then what's he talkin' about?"

Gojyo shrugs and puts his feet up on the table, and from the glare Hakkai gives him, I get the feeling he did it just to get on his nerves. "Some people are really nosey."

"Some people merely can't help being concerned when they come across something they genuinely need to be concerned about." Hakkai shoots back.

Dai and me look at each other for a sec. She shrugs a little and goes back to the menu.

"In any case, we digress. Miss Dai, have you made the acquaintance of Sanzo yet?"

That gets her to look up at him again right away, "No! It's terrible! Goku talks about his Sanzo _all _the time, but I never get to see him because he's so busy!"

"_His_ Sanzo." Gojyo mutters under his breath. "Priceless."

Hakkai elbows him, "Would you get your feet off the table, please? Yes, well, Sanzo is indeed a very busy man, but he did practically raise our Goku, so he's not _all_ bad, I assure you. Still, he can be rather rough around the edges."

Gojyo still has his feet on the table, "He can be a straight-up _dick_, Hakkai."

"I'm sure he'd never behave that way towards Miss Dai."

"Why? I've seen him be a dick to all kindsa' chicks. Bein' Goku's girl isn't gonna' keep him from being a total jerk."

"Yeah, she's not really my girl. We're just friends." I'm starting to feel like he just doesn't believe me.

"Perhaps Sanzo has mellowed out some now that he's gotten a bit older."

"Ha! Yeah right! He's not _that_ old."

"Yes, but being nearly thirty-one, I should think that he might-"

"The hell do you know? You haven't even been around lately, so you don't know shit about who's turned out how."

Hakkai shoots him a look that seems both outraged and hurt, one eyebrow cocked, eyes shadowed and dark, lips curled back a little, like he wants to shout.

Gojyo blows a few smoke rings.

I realize I've been biting my thumbnail for a couple minutes now.

Next to me, Dai is sitting totally still, staring at them.

A few tense moments pass, then Hakkai takes a deep breath, "Would you get your feet off the table now? People eat here, you know."

Gojyo just ignores him.

Dai speaks up, a little loudly, "I'd love to meet Sanzo, really. He should have come with us today."

I take the opportunity to change the subject, gladly, "Yeah, yeah, I tried ta' get him ta' come, but he said he's got lotsa' stuff ta' do, so maybe next time."

"Oh well!" Dai throws her hands in the air, "We should all order some food. Aren't you boys hungry?"

"I'm starvin'."

"Me too! Want to share something with me? We could each order separate plates and then try each other's food. That way we wouldn't have to just decide on one thing."

I smile at her, even though stuff's way awkward right now. "M'kay. Hey, we should do that thing we do."

"Alright, pick something for me!"

I'm laughing too as I check the menu again and choose something I think she'll like, then I turn to her, grinning, "What'dya' choose for me?"

"It's a surprise, Goku-chan!"

"I ordered ya' some-"

"Don't tell me!" She hits my arm lightly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

Smiling more, I turn back to the guys, hoping they've cooled down again.

They both look really annoyed now.

I try not to let it bother me, "What're you guys getting?"

"I think I'll just stick with my water for now." Hakkai murmurs faintly.

Gojyo doesn't even answer, just coughs.

Dai makes a sad face at him, "Are you sick, Gojyo-san?"

"What? No. I just-"

"He smokes too much." Hakkai jumps in. "Far, far too much."

"Don't listen to Doctor Know-It-All. I'm cool. Yo, girly, how'd you meet Goku exactly? All he'll tell me is you guys live near each other."

"Well, that's all it was really. My family lives close to the temple, one day I was taking a walk and ran into him. We started talking and just hit it off, then I asked him if he wanted to come down to town with me and have lunch."

Gojyo looks straight at me, "Dude. Seriously?"

"Nn, what?"

He laughs, "She beat you to it?"

"Beat me ta' what?" I don't care if he's gonna' tease me now. Anything's better than watching him and Hakkai fight.

"The 'I'm hungry, let's eat' line, duh! I didn't think that was even possible."

I grin back at him, "I was distracted, I guess."

"Hey, that reminds me." Gojyo turns to Hakkai again, who still looks pretty upset, "That girl you were supposed to have lunch with this week. Did she ask you out, or did you ask her out?"

"What does it matter, Gojyo?" Hakkai asks tiredly.

"Just curious. I guess it's not important though, huh? Since you skipped it to come here anyway."

"What?" I stare at Hakkai, "Ya' passed up a date ta' come here?" I've never even heard of him dating somebody since his old girlfriend died, so it's a huge deal.

Hakkai looks more irritated than ever, "I agreed to lunch arrangements with a young woman, yes, and it slipped my mind that I'd be out of town on the day we agreed upon, that's all."

That really sucked. I mean, obviously he made plans to hang out with a chick and then had to cancel 'cause Sanzo called him back here.

Gojyo rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But did _you_ pick that date, or did she?"

"I suppose it was _me_." Hakkai snarls a little. "What on earth does it matter?"

"I just wanted to _know_, 'Kai. Damn. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Perhaps if you weren't sitting there, with your filthy boots on the table, purposely saying things to get a rise out of me-"

"I'm not trying to get a rise outta' you, I just wanted to know about the fucking date!"

"And now you're shouting at me. That's unnecessary to say the least."

"Well you're bein' a brat about it."

I exchange another nervous look with Dai, who's eyes are wide like she can't believe what's happening.

"For heaven's sake!" Hakkai cries, suddenly, "Gojyo, we're at lunch with Goku and his girlfriend, can't you put what happened last night on the shelf for an hour or two?"

"She's not really my girlfriend, guys. We're friends."

Both of them ignore me.

"It's got nothin' to do with last night."

"What happened last night?" I blurt out, before I can think about whether or not I really want to know.

Dai shakes her head at me, expression horrified.

Anyway, it shuts them up, and they both study me a moment. Gojyo rolls his eyes again and grinds his cigarette out, "Nothing. Hakkai acted like an asshole, that's all."

"I did nothing of the kind!" Hakkai looks angrier than ever, and his voice is exasperated. I don't know if I've ever seen him so ruffled, "I did what I did for your own good!"

Gojyo glares at him, lighting another cigarette, "Shaddup about it, would'ja'? Like you said, we're trying to hang out with Goku and his girl-"

"She's not my girl." I snap.

"Then what the fuck are we all here for?" Gojyo demands suddenly. "Goku, if she's not your fucking girlfriend, I'm gonna' ask her out myself, 'cause she's hot, and she deserves a guy who'll actually man up and _ask_ her to go out with him, instead of dragging her down here so we can watch you guys play patty-cake. Christ, I thought you were on this 'I'm all grown up now' kick."

"Shaddup, moron. It's none of your business if I ask her out or not."

"All I mean is you got a cute girl, and if you like her you should date her."

"Gojyo…" Hakkai says softly, "This isn't the appropriate time for you to be giving Goku advice on women."

I glance at Dai out of the corner of my eye and see how embarrassed she looks.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't even be here if you'd just minded your own business last night, Hakkai."

"What're ya' sayin'?" I snap, "Ya' don't wanna' be here? So scram. You're bein' a dick."

"_I'm _the dick?" Gojyo whirls around to look at me, mouth falling open, cigarette nearly dropping out of it. "Hey, I'm not the one who invited two unlucky single guys to watch me flirt and eye-fuck with a pretty lady."

"That ain't why I invited ya', dumbass! I just thought it'd be fun!"

"It's not." He sniffs. "Especially not with Doctor Cho over here, riding my ass about every little thing."

"Gojyo." Hakkai tries again, more firmly, "Don't start taking what happened last night out on Goku."

"What the heck happened last night?" I ask again, and this time I really do want to know.

Dai's face is beet red by now. I get the feeling she's getting kinda' upset, and I don't blame her—this is way awkward.

"It's none of your business what happened last night, monkey. Just siddown and keep flirting with your girlfriend."

"For the last time, dick-head, she _isn't_ my _girlfriend_!"

Dai jumps up suddenly, grabs her bag, hops back over the rail, and starts to walk away.

I get to my feet too, "Dai! Hey, wait a sec!"

She doesn't even glance back at me.

I turn to glare at Gojyo, who's watching her go, about as shocked as me.

"Way ta' go, asshole. Ya' just ruined ev'rything."

"Me? No way, she's pissed at _you_, Romeo."

"For what? You're the one bein' a jerk."

"_You_ keep saying she's not your girlfriend when she _obviously_ is."

"But she's not!"

"You hurt her friggin' feelings, idiot. Way to go."

"Yeah, well if you weren't bein' such a shit in the first place, about what happened last night, or whatever-"

"Oh, get bent, monkey. You don't know dick about last night."

I practically scream, "I know you're all pissed off 'cause Hakkai moved away, an' now you're bein' a jackass to _everybody_! That's what I know!"

Gojyo cuts off in the middle of whatever counterargument he was gonna' give and gawks at me with his mouth still open, like he can't believe I just called him on that.

"I dunno' why ya' won't admit it, but I ain't stupid! I know that's what you're really pissed about!"

His eyes turn mean, without warning, "You back-stabbing pieca' shit! It's not _my_ fault your stupid fuck buddy just ran outta' here without a word to anybody! Learn how to handle your goddamn women, Goku, how's that sound? Don't take it out on me that you're too fucking stupid to see that you hurt her feelings, and in the meantime, know what? Don't invite me to chaperone your shitty play dates anymore! Take your goddamn precious Sanzo with you to the playground from now on, 'cause _he's_ your daddy, not me!"

Hakkai grabs his arm and jerks him forward, so his chair's level again, and his feet are on the ground.

Gojyo whips around to glare at him.

For about five seconds, they stare daggers at each other, until I think they're gonna' start throwing punches.

"That's enough." Hakkai growls.

Gojyo keeps glaring at him, but he doesn't say anything else.

It's too late though. I'm already totally hurt.

Hakkai stands up, "Goku, he-"

"I don't give a shit." I go over the rail and run after Dai.

It's easy to catch up to her, but I can't make her stop, and she's walking so fast, I have to jog a little to keep up, "Hey, hey, wait."

Dai doesn't look at me. She's frowning, eyes cloudy, and she looks really beautiful, but I hate to see her angry and humiliated.

"Dai, listen, please?" I try to take her hand. Sometimes she lets me hold it.

Today she just rips away from me.

"What am I? A joke?"

"What? No. No, you're not a joke."

"What did you tell them anyway? I haven't slept with you yet?"

"I didn't tell 'em nothin' about that. I just-"

"Obviously you're not _dating_ me, right? Obviously you're not _fucking_ me. So what am I? I must just be a joke. It's like he said—"

"Don't listen to him." I reach for her again, but she still won't let me touch her. "He's just actin' crazy t'day 'cause-"

"I don't care about what that asshole said!" She yells. "it's you, Goku, saying over and over that I'm not your girlfriend. I mean, just being friends is one thing, but you act like you don't want anything to do with me!"

"What?!"

"'She's not my girlfriend, guys, she's not my girlfriend, we're just friends'. I see how it is—you can be all sweet and nice when we're alone, but as soon as you're around the guys, I'm nobody."

"I didn't mean it ta' seem that way. He was pissin' me off-"

"Look." She stops suddenly, some auburn hair falling across her face, and she glares at me, "If you don't want me to be your girlfriend, fine. I don't have to be your girlfriend. Just tell me to my face!"

"Dai, I didn't mean ta' make ya' feel like you don't matter, I just…I dunno'. It wasn't important ta' me, what kinda' relationship we've got."

"According to you, we don't have any relationship."

"I never said that."

Dai shakes her head.

I look at her a moment, then I whisper, "I'm so, so sorry."

She scrapes the loose strand of hair out of her face, and frowns down at her boots, lips pouty, and it makes me really wanna' kiss her, but I know I can't.

"I need to think."

"'Kay. Can I…come see ya' later?"

"Maybe. Give me a few days."

"'Kay… I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

She lifts her warm eyes to meet mine again, "Think about what you want so you can tell me next time I see you." Then she walks away.

I watch her go, and I'm so confused and hurt and angry, I don't know what to say or do. I really want to call after her, but it won't do me any good, and I feel pissed at Gojyo for being such a jerk about nothing, and at the same time, I can't believe he was right. Dai really _was_ mad at me over what I said. I didn't know. I didn't think she'd get mad about that. I mean, we really aren't dating officially.

_Women are way confusing_. I think sadly, as I watch her go.

But that jerk, and the stupid stuff he said to me, and to her… Why? Why would he say that stuff?

He's always been like a brother to me. Sure, we bicker a lot and stuff, and in some ways, what just happened is almost normal, except this time, somebody got hurt 'cause of it.

"Stupid jerk." I wipe my nose and start to walk home.

What the heck anyway? The guys said they weren't mad at each other, but then they started fighting. And what happened last night? It didn't have nothing to do with me, right?

Suddenly, I get a sick feeling in my stomach. Yesterday, I felt really sure that Hakkai could fix everything that's been wrong here, but today, Gojyo totally ignored him, like it didn't matter.

That gives me a really bad feeling.


	8. Chapter 8

_Too Late…_

* * *

**Hakkai**

I don't bother calling after Goku, because he has every reason to storm away angrily. After all, we weren't even at the café for thirty minutes before things went awry, and everything he had planned has been cancelled.

Instead, I sit back down in my chair, beside Gojyo, who's still smoking.

"Tell me…Why on earth did you do that?"

I'm afraid I might know the answer already. I'm afraid he purposely ruined this because he's angry with me over what I did last night.

"Do what?" He sounds mostly calm again, but I can tell he's bothered by Goku running off. I know him well enough to know better than to think that Gojyo would _want_ to misuse his friends or belittle them. I wonder if it wasn't as intentional as I originally thought, if perhaps his impulsive behavior merely got the better of him in what was undoubtedly a tense situation.

"Everything that happened just now."

"That wasn't my fault."

"I'm afraid I must disagree. You purposely started a conflict as best I can tell."

His eyes flash a little as he glares at me, "What? How?"

"Everything you did and said, to me, to Goku, even to Dai."

"Bullshit, Hakkai!" he sounds genuinely outraged. "I didn't start anything with Goku or his girlfriend on purpose!"

"You've been disagreeable ever since this morning, so don't sit there and tell me you weren't purposely trying to get into it with anyone you could. I don't believe that."

He's practically shaking with anger, "What is that, your new thing? Not believing me?"

"Only if yours is to be a liar who purposely estranges his friends."

It seems to be the last straw for him, and he stands up. "Whatever." He shoves his hands in his pockets, "I'm going home."

I watch as he walks away, and for the life of me, I can't understand what's gotten into him, but with every twist and turn I take, I uncover some new level of disturbance, though I'm never able to trace it all the way back to its source. Obviously, it runs deeper than it seems to.

Perhaps he wasn't really trying to start a fight with Goku, though it's clear he was trying to incite an argument with me, not that it really matters.

I follow him, saying, "You ruined everything today. I hope that satisfies you."

"I didn't _ruin_ any of it on purpose, Hakkai. I was just fucking around with the kid, I didn't know he was gonna' react that way—I mean, since when can I not fuck around with Goku?" His voice is angry and defensive, more so than I think I've ever heard it before.

"He's an adult now—he's not the child he was when we met him—so it goes without saying that he's beginning to assimilate important things into his life, and having a relationship with a woman is bound to be one of those things. I doubt it's helpful for you to criticize."

"I was just teasing him."

"His boundaries are certain to be different now, and with her present, even more so. Personally, I think you ought to be ashamed for how you acted just now."

Normally, if I call him out on something of this nature, it checks him and he sees the error of his ways, but today, he spins to snarl at me, out of nowhere, "I didn't do anything wrong! It's not my fault his boundaries changed. _Mine_ didn't."

"Isn't that part of the problem? You've seemingly allowed everyone, including our so-called monkey, to surpass you in maturity."

"Don't start with me on maturity! I don't need a goddamn lecture from you, all right? Because if you had just minded your own business in the first place, none of this would have happened, I wouldn't have even _been_ at that café with you guys, so whose fault is it really?" Then he turns and begins to walk away again.

I walk with him, take a short pause before saying, as confidently as possible, "It's clear you're upset about that, so perhaps we ought to discuss it."

Last night, after the heroin went down the toilet, there was a brief second where I truly expected him to try to beat the daylights out of me, and I'm still not sure why he didn't, and when he stomped outside, I hadn't thought he'd come back in at all. He had though, not even an hour later.

This morning, he'd barely spoken to me, despite my effort to patch things up between us, but I would be a fool to assume what just happened has nothing to do with the heroin; it could be his moods are out of control as a result of drug withdrawal, or perhaps he's just angry and looking to take it out on anyone, whether they be friend or foe. After all, the argument may have begun between him and I, but I know he started it, and it did escalate into a disagreement with Goku. It did result in Dai leaving the group, distraught and embarrassed.

"It must account for the way you're behaving today."

"What do you want me to say, Hakkai? You really pissed me off."

"I only acted on my desire to help you."

"And that's why I didn't kick your ass last night; doesn't mean I'm not pissed."

"That's reasonable of you." I say, not entirely sarcastically, since, assuming he's taking drugs, I wouldn't expect him to be able to differentiate that at all, and while I'm thinking of it, I realize he doesn't seem to be exhibiting any signs of withdrawal yet either. It's not impossible, I tell myself, that he was never taking the heroin to begin with.

"I don't think that changes the fact that I was not in the wrong though, because whether you were intending to sell it, take it, or honestly holding it for someone, I don't think you need something like that in your life. I know I don't need it in mine."

"It's got nothing to do with you, Hakkai."

"As a matter of fact, I think it does. Our lives are closely intertwined, so whatever you've gotten yourself mixed up in will surely affect me, eventually."

I expect him to argue with that, but he doesn't, for which I'm grateful. That comment he made at the café, about my not knowing what's going on with my own friends, was truly hurtful, and I don't want to hear him say anything like that again.

Then again, I'm not completely surprised by it either. Gojyo is unpredictable in a way—it's difficult to accurately guess what's going to upset him, how much it will affect him, and what sort of reaction he'll have if he is upset. I've seen him brush off some very cruel comments over the course of our relationship—some of which I myself made—and I've seen him fly off the handle on the spot just as often.

Maybe his behavior today really isn't a result of drug abuse. Perhaps, deep inside, he really is just honestly hurt that I moved, as Goku bluntly expressed this afternoon.

Or it could be that he's not going through withdrawals because he still has access to drugs somewhere.

_I'm not sure I'll be able to leave at the end of the week like I meant to._

"Last night, you acted as if what I did may have highly undesirable ramifications."

He almost laughs, "It _will_ have _very_ highly undesirable _ramifications_, Hakkai."

"Would you care to expand on that?"

There's a moment of hesitation. "I don't know what's going to happen now, okay? I just know it's not something I want to deal with."

"You don't seem very concerned at the moment."

He's acting out a bit, but he doesn't seem panicked or furious like I might expect. Is that a result of drugs too?

"What am I supposed to do, Hakkai? You flushed that shit down the toilet—I can't get it back—I know why you did it, and even if it was a totally misguided thing to do, I can't kick your ass over it. All I can do is wait and see what happens. And like I said, I'm pretty pissed."

That sounds a lot more like old Gojyo to me than the man I was playing poker with last night, who, I thought even then, was hardly Gojyo at all. I turn to him and say, gently, "Whatever's going to happen, I can help you, just as long as you're willing to trust me."

He scoffs, then snorts, and shakes his head, not looking at me. "Right."

"You doubt my sincerity?"

"Hakkai…you don't even know what's going on."

"I would if you'd just tell me."

"Sorry." He grumbles, almost inaudibly.

"For what?"

Up the road, a man comes around the corner and shouts. "Hey!" He's pointing straight at us.

Gojyo stops and looks at him, and I do the same.

Whoever he is, he's marching toward us, willfully and aggressively. He's about as tall as Gojyo, but much thinner, with dark skin, black of hair, with youkai ears and fangs. I get a terrible, dangerous sense of murder that seems to be emanating from him, growing stronger as he approaches us.

"Here we go." Gojyo drawls.

"You!" The man snarls when he's closer. His teeth are disgusting, tinted brown, and chipped, his lips are dry and cracked as if he's extremely dehydrated, his hair is greasy and the whites of his eyes are a bit yellowed. All together, he's bedraggled and filthy, with long, ragged nails that have dirt clotted under them; when he stands just in front of my room mate, all but foaming at the mouth, I can smell him, as if he hasn't bathed in weeks and weeks, but he's wearing a very nice suit. None the less, he's a loathsome, horrifying, disgusting specimen of a man, by all accounts, and I'm definitely expecting him to pull a knife and attempt to mug us, which won't go well for him at all, since I would truly welcome a chance to take my frustrations out on someone.

Gojyo just shrugs at him, "What about me?"

"You were supposed to meet me an hour ago!"

I turn to Gojyo, "You were?"

He doesn't answer.

"So how about it, bitch? Where is it?" The man jerks Gojyo forward by the shirt and starts to hunt through his pockets and frisk him. _"Where_ is it?"

Gojyo shoves him off roughly. "I dunno' what you're talking about, freak."

Our new friend lunges at him, straining forward and gnashing his horrible, sharp teeth, "Don't play dumb with me. Rashii made that order weeks ago, and he's getting pissed that he don't have it yet."

"Rashii?" I give Gojyo a hard look. "What in the world do you have to do with Merchant Rashii?"

My friend hardly considers me, "Look, asshole, I don't know what you want from me, but I _don't_ have it, alright? Now beat it, before I kick the shit outta' you."

With a highly intensifying sensation of nervousness, I continue to watch the exchange. Rashii is a very powerful, very rich man, active in the community, seeming to have his hand in most things: economy, business, entertainment, trade, and the list goes on. I can't imagine what the disgusting man confronting us has to do with him, and I can't even begin to guess what Gojyo has to do with any of it.

"What _do_ you want?" I demand, suddenly.

The man turns his crazed, yellow eyes on me, panting a bit, but doesn't answer. Instead, he jerks a finger at Gojyo, "He knows. He was supposed to bring it to me! That was the deal!"

Slowly, and reluctantly, I look at Gojyo. "Is he referring to what I believe he's referring to?"

Gojyo's looking at me out of the corner of his eye, knowingly, "I dunno'. Is he?"

"If he is, then-"

"Fuck!" The degenerate screams, suddenly, producing a switchblade and popping it open, "I better get it right now, or I'll carve up the other side of your face, hanyou!"

I wince.

Gojyo doesn't waste a second. He snap-kicks the man right in the stomach, knocking him in the dirt, effectively, fists and teeth clenched. "Watch your fuckin' mouth."

At once, the man springs up again, going at Gojyo with the knife, but Gojyo ducks, and the blade sings past his ear, barely rustling his hair.

Infuriated, the man comes again, swinging and swinging and hacking and slicing, all in some pathetic, futile effort to rip into Gojyo, while my friend ducks and evades fluidly, as if he can read the man's mind.

That goes on for just a second though. I'm expecting Gojyo to knock him out at any given second, or to thrash him the way he thrashed Rong yesterday, and to laugh and joke about it, but he's not even grinning. His face is grim and his expression is deadly and serious, and suddenly, I know exactly what he's about to do.

I reach for him, "Gojyo, wait! Not here!"

There's a familiar flash and he has his shakujou in hand.

"No!"

He whips it forward, the chain rattles through the air, drowning out all the noise around us, and that crescent blade sparkles, beautifully almost, in the sunlight. It's been a long, long time since I've seen it. As far as I know, he hasn't used it since the day we were in Houtou castle, years and years ago. He hasn't needed to ever since, because, as he well knows, it the very definition of overkill against anyone who's not an assassin.

It strikes true and cleaves through the man, severing through his neck. His head flies up in the air, eyes wide, black mouth gaping, and blood sprays down around us. The body flops over, and the head hits the ground like a rock, rolls to a stop at Gojyo's boots.

He kicks it across the street, disdainfully, lets his shakujou go, and it vanishes. "You shouldn't play with sharp objects, motherfucker."

"Gojyo!" I almost collapse against him, grasping at his shoulder, "Wh-why? Why would you do that? The man was hardly a threat. He was no more than some overconfident tweaker!"

Gojyo shrugs out of my grip, steps over the body, and keeps walking, not even a drop of blood staining his shirt. All around us, people are standing still in the street, staring and murmuring, not having any idea what they just witnessed, or what they should do about it. Most of these people know us, and most of them know we're strong and that we don't take rough stuff from anyone, but they've never seen before just how violent we can be.

I walk after him, quickly, "Why did you kill him?"

"I don't know. Maybe because he attacked me with a knife?"

"You could have disarmed him easily."

"Maybe if I was in a better mood I woulda'."

"But…the ramifications of what you just did… I mean, I can hardly believe that a man like that might actually work for Merchant Rashii, but if he _did_…"

I don't want to think about that. I don't want to think about Gojyo going head to head against Rashii and all the men he employs. It's not even the possibility of a fight that has me worried, it's the fact that to go against Rashii is to go against the law itself.

"Now Rashii knows he can't muscle me around. Whatever happens next, happens."

"How can you be that way? How can you honestly think that?"

"I told you I didn't know what was going to happen, Hakkai." He answers roughly. "Now we know."

"Then, you mean to say this altercation _did_ have to do with that substance?"

He finally looks at me, eyes hard as stone, "You shouldn't have flushed it down the toilet."

I can't get anything else out of him for the rest of the walk home, but when we reach our front steps I do say, "You're scaring me, Gojyo."

"Why? You've seen me do that shit a million times."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about how incredibly reckless you're acting as of late: fighting with Rong, that outburst at the cafe, the drugs, now killing that man in broad daylight. You can't tell me those things shouldn't bother me."

"As a matter of fact." He faces me, blocking the door to the house, "I can. Here I go: Hakkai, it shouldn't bother you. In fact, you should just bury your head in a book and mind your own goddamn business."

His tone is heartless and unflinching.

"Excuse me? I-"

"You heard me. Just get off my ass, because I wouldn't have hadta' kill that guy if you hadn't gone flushing his heroin down the drain, and you wouldn't have felt like you needed to do that if you hadn't gone snooping around in my room in the first place, so why don't you just do yourself a favor from now on and spend the rest of your vacation relaxing instead of getting on my case for every little thing?"

"You can't blame me for what just happened." I say, a little darkly.

"Well, I do."

"It was your own actions that have brought you to this position, not mine."

"But everything was all under control before you started snooping around and asking questions and taking shit into your own hands."

"What should I have done then? _Ignored_ it? I can hardly believe you would expect me to just _ignore_ a pile of heroin being stashed beneath your mattress! What sort of friend would that make me?"

"You had no business digging through my room in the first place!" He snarls, sounding more frustrated than ever before.

"I was just trying to tidy it up for you a little—excuse me for my attempts to be helpful. I mean, it's perfectly clear that things have gotten a little hectic around here, and all I meant to do was to try to help you put them back into order."

"I didn't ask for your help, Hakkai."

"Oh, here we go, back to _that_ old routine. It's a wonder that in the last decade you've never put together the fact that you don't _need_ to ask me for my assistance."

"No, no, I figured it out. I figured out that you're a nosey, controlling, know-it-all bastard who's gotta' stick his face into my business over and over, whether it's actually going to help or not!"

I throw my hands in the air, "I cannot believe that's how you look at it! After all the times I've been on your side and taken action in your best interest, you have the audacity to tell me that I'm nosey and controlling. Well, let me tell you, Gojyo, if I _weren't_ nosey and controlling, you likely would have been dead ten times over again."

"Fuck off!"

I can hardly understand how angry he sounds. It's barely even his voice speaking now, fierce and impatient with rage.

"I-"

"I'm tired of _you_ always acting like I can't get anything done by myself! Like I'm too stupid to figure my own shit out! Like I'm too pathetic to take care of myself! Like I'd just get lost and starve and die without you around to hold my hand and walk me through life! I've been here a whole year without you, doing just fine, and now that you're back, you think you can walk in here and start putting my life in the order _you_ want it to be in. It's nuts, Hakkai! I don't need you dictating how I act and what I do, because I'm doing just fine without you! Just _fucking fine!_"

With that, he throws the door open, stomps inside, and slams it shut.

Shouting purely out of frustration, I throw myself down on the steps, and Jeep shrieks in surprise, fluttering up off my shoulder and gliding down to my feet. He stares up at me a moment, rests his chin on my knee. I pat his head and glare out into the woods. Behind me, I hear Gojyo slide to the floor and sit down against the door on the other side. Angrier than ever, I yell at him, "You're impossible, Gojyo! Completely impossible!"

"Good!" Is the muffled answer from inside.

"_Not_ good! You're never going to get anywhere being such a stubborn, stupid jackass!"

"I ain't _tryin'_ to get anywhere, professor!"

"I can see that very clearly!"

"Great, we know your damn _monocle's_ working!"

"At least we know that my brain is working as well!"

"My brain works just fine, it just doesn't work the same way yours does! _So sorry_ about that! So sorry I ain't _just like you_!"

"I never asked you to be!" I scream. I can't believe we're doing this, sitting on opposite sides of the same door, screaming at one another like children. At the time, it just seems like the only thing that can be done.

"Then stop judgin' me!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"You're just too stubborn to be able to see what it is I'm _really_ doing!"

"Being a pain in the ass, that's what."

"I'm afraid you're wrong—I'm afraid that's what _you're_ being."

"Get fucked!" I hear him go stomping through the house, and in the back, I hear his door slam shut.

I wait a while, half-expecting him to come back and apologize, or possibly keep screaming at me, but he doesn't.

Finally, I sigh and stroke Jeep's neck. "Unbelievable."

He chirps at me, but everything else is silent.

In time, I begin to feel a heaviness grow inside me, and despair as well. What are we doing, fighting like this? It feels so wrong to be at odds, even just a little. It feels terrible to come all the way back here just to wind up arguing with him all the time. It feels even worse to feel distance between us, to feel as if we're on different wave-lengths entirely, and to feel far, far away from him, as if he's on one side of a chasm and I'm standing on the other, and now we're just arguing about who should be the one to climb down and up to the other, who deserves to stand idly by and wait for the other to come to him.

Feeling discouraged, I lean back against the wall and shut my eyes.

I hate to feel far away from him. I hate it so much. But what am I to do?

"Gojyo?"

He doesn't answer. He probably can't hear me.

No, his window is only a little to the right of me, so I wouldn't be surprised if he could hear me after all.

When I arrived here, it felt so good to be back, so secure and comfortable, as if, for the first time in a whole year, I was really being myself.

"It's strange how different the world appears when we're apart." I say to Jeep. "How lonely it looks…"

Not normal loneliness though. It's odd.

"I feel that I could be anywhere, doing anything, surrounded by others, whether at work or in class, participating in a study group perhaps, and even then…I still feel completely alone."

Like some part of me is absent, and there's a physical pain that accompanies that, one that I can't describe, but it's ever-present, sometimes sharp and unbearable, sometimes dull and throbbing, and sometimes it's just a tiny ache inside of me, but it never, never goes away, and I live every moment in hopeless anticipation that I might walk into a room and find him there, that I might hear his voice calling out to me, that I might happen to see him in the distance ahead of me, that he might appear out of nowhere to ease my loneliness and make my life interesting and cheerful and meaningful again.

Still, I know better. I know he's living here without me, and that we're very far apart.

"I don't know who's to blame." I murmur. "I don't want to blame anyone…"

Perhaps I am the only one who can be blamed for this distance that I feel between us.

What good does it do for me to be back now if I'm only going to spend my time feeling far away from him even when he's right beside me?

How can I fix it?

"I don't know how." I say sadly, petting Jeep's ears.

He croons sympathetically, nudging at my hand, the way he does when he senses my sadness and wishes to cheer me up.

"Gojyo?" I call again, but there's no answer.

"Gojyo!"

Still nothing.

I tilt my head to look over at his window, but he's not there, so I just close my eyes again, letting that terrible pain and sadness overtake me.

The next morning, I wake up and go out into the living room where Gojyo's sleeping on the couch. We avoided each other for the most part yesterday, after our argument, only making small talk here and there. We ate lunch and dinner together and were able to act at least partly normal, but as much as we said the right things and responded to one another in the correct ways, and made plausible expressions, that rift never went away, and everything had felt hollow.

Shortly after dinner, Gojyo began drinking, and I couldn't persuade him to stop, so, since he'd seem set on getting drunk, I'd retired to the other room early, lying awake for hours, thinking until the despairing thoughts within me were nearly enough to drive me mad.

I was still awake at five am, and as best I could tell, so was he.

In fact, I'm not sure that I got any sleep at all, and when I rise at ten in the morning, I feel tired and stretched and extremely discouraged, and what's more, I'm at a loss for what I should do next.

So far, my visit really isn't working out very well, and the thought that perhaps it might be for the best to just leave keeps stealing into my head.

But whose best interest does that cater to? My own? I remind myself that I'm not the one at risk here.

And then I remind myself that I _am_ at risk, in some ways. Aside from the fact that every day I'm falling behind on my schoolwork, as well as at my place of employment, I'm aware that Gojyo's reckless behavior could come spilling over into my life, and therefore, I am most definitely at risk of some sort.

What can I do to rectify the situation though?

I pad quietly into the kitchen and sit down at the table with a sigh, and for a little while, I sit there and watch the first few pale rays of morning build up and flow through the room. I've already done everything I can around the place, in the way of laundry and dishes and cleaning up the house. My garden is gone, and I have no way to entertain myself. There's nothing for me to do, so I sit with Jeep on my lap and wait for morning to finish maturing.

In the meantime, I think of what can be done to improve things around here. I know I can't just leave circumstances the way they are and go back to school, but it's out of the question to stay here indefinitely and struggle to put his life in order. That isn't my responsibility.

So why does it feel like it is?

_It's always felt like my responsibility._ I think, sulkily. It never has been, but I still always seem to find myself _making_ it my responsibility, even when I don't have to. No matter what happens to him, no matter how serious or how small his problems are, I always find myself intentionally getting in the middle of them, as if I can't stay out of them.

_Why shouldn't I? He's my best friend, so of course when he's beset by some kind of difficulty it's my natural inclination to want to assist him. It's not as if I _solve_ his problems for him._

Besides that, he's always by my side when I need him to be, not solving the issues, obviously, but supporting me, and I've always tried to repay the favor.

For most of our relationship, I've always felt that I was in need of his assistance far more often than he was ever in need of mine, because Gojyo's the strong one. It takes more to break him down and pull him apart. He can endure a lot of hardship and a great deal of abuse before it begins to weaken him, whereas I fall apart somewhat easily, and something as small as the weather can sometimes cast me into a bad mood. I don't have his fortitude, personally, but I've always had it on my side, and I've always been grateful for it.

Now that he is facing what appears to be _some_ sort of breakdown, doesn't it make sense that I have my chance to repay him for all the times he's been there for me?

That would make sense, if he could just be honest with me and tell me what's wrong and let me help him.

If he won't, what can I honestly be expected to do? There will come a point, I know, when I'll have to face the fact that I can't help him, simply because he won't let me, and then I'll have no choice but to go back to school and let him face these issues alone, even if that's the last thing I want to do.

The fact of the matter is, no matter how badly I want to help Gojyo, maybe I have no choice but to accept that there's nothing I can do, and maybe the only logical course of action in this situation is just to admit that I'm unable to help him, adjust my priorities, and go back to school. If he wants to ruin his life…that's his decision, but I shouldn't allow my life to be sabotaged as well, right? Maybe the only thing to do now is to look after myself and hope he sorts this out on his own.

_I could always take him with me_. I think.

And then I immediately shake my head and mumble out loud, "No, that would never work."

He'll never, ever willingly choose to go with me, even if I sit him down and tell him exactly how ridiculous his reasons for that are.

And also, because I know he wouldn't fit in where I live now, and I'm not sure what he would do there. He could just turn out to be a burden, living at my apartment, eating my food, sleeping all the time, using whatever money he does manage to scrape together to buy alcohol. His presence could be highly disruptive to my academic life, particularly while he's in this state.

I almost believe that going home and accepting defeat is the only thing I can do.

Then I look at Gojyo where he's sleeping on the couch and study his face, and that idea is suddenly out of the question.

He's quite concerned about turning thirty next month, but to me he looks uniquely young for his age, and in his sleep, younger still; he could pass for twenty-five or twenty-six, easily, and with his eyes closed, and his hair falling in his face, he looks almost innocent and calm. His face is peaceful, all the strangeness and dissent and frustration that has me so concerned absent from it, and I don't see so much as a line or a wrinkle. To me, here in the morning light, he looks very much like a child, and I feel far, far older than him than I actually am, but that's hardly new. Even in his twenties he didn't know how to act his age, and the older he gets, the less mature he seems. In a way, it's as if he's no more than a child trapped in a man's body.

I watch the light shift over his face, spreading down from his forehead and across his cheeks, and as I'm looking, I suddenly think to myself, _I love him. For all the ways he is, mature or not, lost and confused, I always love him._

It's odd, but I don't think about how much I love Gojyo very often, and it's seldom those exact words steal into my mind, though I often feel affection toward him—and it's even more infrequent for me to say it out loud. In fact, I can't remember the last time I told him that. I know I have, at least once, but even on the day I left him here I couldn't bring myself to utter those words. I suppose it's just something I don't find necessary to say.

After all, I've always thought it tremendously obvious that I love Gojyo, all things considered. I've always felt quite certain that anyone around us—whether it be a personal friend or a passerby on the street—must be able to see how I feel, because I love him so much; certainly more than I love anyone else.

Darkly now, I consider the trouble he seems to have gotten himself into without me around to prevent it. It's possible he would have gotten into trouble with me here regardless, but I doubt it. Whatever he's thinking, whatever reason he has for behaving this way, I'm sure I could have prevented it had I simply been around.

Maybe it's not relevant how he ended up this way. Maybe the only thing I should be concerning myself with is how to solve the issue, because I don't think I can ever give up on him, regardless of how difficult he's being. I care far too deeply about his well-being to just go away without him and ignore his plight.

_I should take him with me._ I think, yet again, staring out the window. It may not be easy, and it may not be at all what he wants, but all things considered, it's clearly for his own good, so I need to start thinking of some way to get him to go with me. Obviously I can't force him to, but perhaps he can be persuaded or manipulated. I've gotten rather good at persuading and manipulating Gojyo over the years, and it has to be excused, seeing how I have his best interest at heart.

As for the strain that could potentially put on my lifestyle, that may be something I just have to accept and do my best to overcome.

In time, I get up and make myself some coffee and then I fry a few eggs and sit down to eat and reflect a little more.

I wish this visit were going better. I wish it could be less strenuous and more of a vacation. In a way, it is a temporary reprieve from my own loneliness and unhappiness, and even though I've missed this house and this town, and the temple, those things are not what I miss when I'm away. I could go and never set foot in this place again, and I wouldn't mind, not even a little, as long as Gojyo was with me.

It's strange, I think, glancing over at him again, how close we've grown in these ten years, and yet, it seems that we've always been this way, ever since the day we met. Compromise was never difficult for us, forgiveness was always natural and easy, and even if, sometimes, genuinely understanding one another could prove challenging, it was always entirely possible, and there was a time when, no matter how horrible I felt about myself and about my life, I could stand beside Gojyo and be comforted by his mere presence, because I knew that he understood, without my saying a word, and more importantly, I knew he cared, even without his telling me so. Even if being near him didn't fix what was wrong, it eased my pain, because suddenly the terrible things that haunted me didn't seem so important, and that was because I was good enough, exactly as I was, for his friendship, and I didn't have to change or act or pretend to try to be someone different. Being Hakkai sufficed, just as letting him be Gojyo was always more than enough for me.

Best friend is such a small, limiting word. A friend who's just a bit closer than the others. That doesn't even begin to describe what we have; he's more than just my best friend, and he's not my lover. Somehow, it feels as if Gojyo is my other half, a part of who I am, and not even things like friendship or romance can define what he means to me. Simply put, we belong together, and in the beginning, when I'd first felt that idea stirring within me, that had been casual enough. We were supposed to live out our lives, side-by-side, I'd sensed, and that was almost expected. I had never considered how much it would hurt to be away from him until the morning of my departure, perhaps because, up until that moment, it had seemed surreal.

Now the feeling of being far away from him, even when he's right beside me, is something I can't seem to shake, and it's ripping through me like a steel blade. I can't stand it, I decide.

On the couch, Gojyo's stirring out of sleep. Then he sits up quickly, and abruptly, calls out my name like he expects to find me missing, "Hakkai?" He whips around to stare at me, and I catch a momentary glimpse of his unguarded, almost frightened expression.

"Good morning." I smile over at him, pretending not to notice that he evidently expected me to go away while he was asleep, "Did you sleep well?"  
He blinks, hazily, and scrapes the hair out of his face. "Nn. Yeah, great."

"Good." I watch him stand up and saunter toward me, unhurriedly and a bit unstably, and pour himself some coffee, yawning a little, expression back to normal apathy and disinterest, and once again, I can feel the rift between us. I can almost feel it stretching, as if that chasm is widening, and suddenly, I don't want to fight with him, no matter what's happening. I don't want to lecture him and scold him and try to reason with him, not when I feel so close to losing him, so I'm determined not to.

The only thing that matters right now is that I do love him so much, and what I really want is to help him in any way possible—that's much more important than the heroin or our argument or what happened with Goku, or anything else that's gone wrong in the last few days.

"Would you like some breakfast?" I stand up and go to the fridge. "There still aren't many options, but we do have some eggs."

"Naw, that's okay."

I look back at him, "You don't want breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I think you should eat." I try to say it softly, so I don't sound as if I'm nagging or come across as overbearing.

He shakes his head and starts his first cigarette of the day, already beginning to cough, "I'm not in the mood for eggs."

"What about some soup then? Or at least some toast. You can't just have cigarettes and coffee for breakfast."

Gojyo gives me a mild glare, "I always do."

I bite back my urge to say 'well you shouldn't', and reluctantly go back to my seat at the table, "Well, if you change your mind, just say so."

He turns away to look out the window, and his expression is distant and even a bit agitated, leaving me to wonder if he might still be upset over our argument from yesterday.

So I clear my throat, "I want to apologize for yesterday, Gojyo. I shouldn't have allowed the situation to escalate so far. I disapprove of the way you acted, but I feel that losing my temper and yelling at you only worsened the circumstances, so I'm sorry I acted that way."

He doesn't look away from the window like I want him to. I so want him to look over at me, grinning that devil-may-care, happy-go-lucky smile, and to say something flippant and glib like 'don't sweat it, it's no big deal', or 'oh, I forgot all about that—no worries'. But no such luck; he keeps staring out the window, as if he's somewhere far away from here.

That puts a tight knot in my chest, and I reach out to clench his wrist for a moment, something I've always done to get his attention in the past.

He still doesn't move, and I leave my hand where it is, waiting for some sort of reaction, but he doesn't give one.

"Gojyo?"

Slowly, he looks back at me, as if he can hardly be bothered with remembering that I'm there with him.

I meet his gaze steadily, murmur, "I'm truly sorry for everything that's gone wrong in the last two days."

Suddenly, he stands up, shaking loose of my grip, and steps past me.

My heart is seized by sudden fear. "Gojyo." I twist around in my seat. "Please, say something to me."

He doesn't utter a sound, only lingers next to me a moment to lay his hand on my shoulder, and I feel him grasp the fabric of my shirt, and then he lets go of me and continues on his way, around the corner, and down the hall to his room.

Not breathing, I sit and listen as the door shuts, and then the house is still.

A very painful, hopeless despair steals into my heart as I sit and try to make sense of what just happened, struggling to manage the rejection and the confusion and the hurt that his actions are inflicting on me, and my initial reaction is to run after him and throw myself on him and beg him to speak to me—beg him to forgive me—and to interrogate him until I understand what's wrong and how he could walk away from me so simply, without even a word.

I know I can't do that though, so I simply turn back around and begin to stare out the window myself, and I can hardly feel myself breathing.

* * *

**Gojyo**

He keeps apologizing, and I can't take that, because it's my fault stuff is going wrong, and I should be the one who's sorry. I _am_ sorry. How can I explain myself though? How can I tell him about all the shit I've been doing and how messed up I am inside my head without ruining our friendship?

I want to tell him the truth so bad. It's killing me that I can't tell him how out of control things are, and I hate it that I don't have him on my side this time. I hate feeling like he could fix all this, if I'd just tell him what was going on, because no matter what happens, I can never tell him. I'm digging myself deeper and deeper into this awful hole where no one can reach me, not even Hakkai, and before long, I'll be so deep in the earth, I won't even be able to see him standing above me.

There's a constant scream inside me these days, raging to get out, clawing at my chest and my throat, desperate to escape, but I keep my mouth shut, and I hold it in, because I don't know what else to do.

Things are so fucked up, I don't think they could get any worse, and they're so bad, I'm not sure even Hakkai can fix them. To make it all worse, I keep pushing him away, and I don't know how.

I mean, obviously it's because I keep acting like an asshole to him, and to everyone else too, not letting him in, but I don't know why I keep doing that. It's happening unconsciously—I don't even have to think about it—like all the nasty shit I said to him and to Goku and his girlfriend. It just came out of nowhere, and once it was out, there was no taking it back. Like what I said to Rong. I'm pushing them all away, whether I mean to or not.

'_Only if it's yours to be a liar who estranges his friends.'_

That's exactly what I've become.

It's because I'm scared, I realize suddenly. I have to lie to them and push them away and estrange them, because I'm really, really scared that if they find out too much, they'll leave me.

_Why should I think that? They're the guys—they'd never do that._

I think that because I know people leave; I've always accepted it the best I could, because I know it's just a hard fact of life, but something about having Hakkai leave, about watching him drive away…

I don't _want_ to accept that he could leave if he finds out what a dick I am and how much bad shit I've actually been doing. I don't ever want to be okay with that. When he left the first time, he promised we'd see each other again, and that was still painful enough. I have no idea what I'll do if he goes away and I know he's never coming back. I don't know how I'll be able to handle that, but I know I won't be able to just accept it.

To me it seems better to push him away a little, so he doesn't find out what I'm doing, so at least when he leaves again he'll still be willing to come back. As long as I don't do anything to ruin our friendship while he's here, maybe I can keep skating by like this.

_I don't want to skate by._ I think, closing my eyes. _I want things to be the way they used to be._

What if I just tell him? Earlier, I thought it would be better for Hakkai to think I'm doing heroin than to know I'm partnering up with Gin Loki, but what if that isn't true?

I turn around and take a long look at the house and wonder.

We lived together a long time, and we've been friends forever, and he's seen me do all kinds of stupid shit, and he _knows_ about a lot of the really stupid shit I did before we met, and he's never really judged me for it. How can he, with all the shit he's done himself?

Could it be I'm scared for no reason? If I go now, right now, before things get any worse, and I tell him what's really going on, and I try my best to tell him about how I've been feeling lately and how stuck I am, maybe he won't actually get mad and leave. I'm not really good at telling people how I feel, but sometimes I can talk to Hakkai, if I know he's going to listen to me and give a shit about what I'm saying. If I explain to him all the fucked up thoughts in my head, maybe he'll understand why I got involved with Loki—or at least _how_—I'll still have to come clean about the raid Loki's planning, but even then, if I make Hakkai see it my way, and I tell him how hard I tried to get out of it, and how everything just got out of hand, then maybe he'll be mad, but at least he'll stick around a while…

It's not because I need his help figuring this out. It's more that I just hate the way this is going. I hate feeling like I can't trust him or tell him anything, and the only thing to do is to tell him the truth, and it has to be now, before anything else goes wrong.

He's just inside, feeding Jeep, like he was when I came outside. He didn't seem mad or anything. When he was talking to me this morning, he seemed sad, like he really wants things to start going better.

_He has to listen to me._ I take a small, nervous step toward the door. _I have to trust him._

It's not like I'm going to confess everything to Sanzo or somebody. It's Hakkai. Hakkai's my best friend. He cares about me on a personal level.

_Doesn't he?_

That thought makes me hesitate.

Behind me, I hear rustling in the trees, but when I turn around I don't see anything. Probably my imagination, or maybe an animal sneaking around out there. It's almost dark, so it could be a deer or a raccoon or even a bear for all I know. Maybe it's a monkey.

Again, I think about what a dick I acted like to Goku and his girlfriend yesterday, for pretty much no reason, and then I call out, "Goku?" It's just for the sake of calling his name though, because he's not coming to see me again for a long, long time after I pissed him off so bad.

There's no answer—big surprise there—so I just sigh, drop my cigarette butt, grind it under my boot, and start back toward the house, determined to say _something_ that's worth saying to Hakkai.

Rough hands grab me from behind, jerking me back into the trees and closing over my mouth to muffle my startled scream, and then they shove me forward so harshly, I almost lose my footing and fall down.

"Goddammit!" I whip around to beat the shit out of whoever it is.

Loki's standing there with about eight of his guys, all glaring at me like I'm some disgusting, little kid they found playing in the gutter.

"Loki." I growl, relaxing immediately, "What the fuck's wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that?"

"Shut up, Gojyo, you sonnova' bitch."

"Hmph. That's some greeting you got."

"I could say the same to you, but I'm not here to start petty arguments."

"Yeah?" I let my eyes slip over his gang, warily. It's a tough crowd: they're all tall, strong, dark, brutal-looking guys with unflinching gazes and stern, unyielding poker faces, watching me, quietly, like attack dogs waiting for the command from their master to rip my throat out. "So what _are _you here for?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojyo. It's so tedious when you do that."

"I don't think I-"

"Word on the street is Rashii's man, Urok, is dead, and rumor has it, that's your handy work."

"Beats the hell outta' me." I light a cigarette, cough into my sleeve real quick, "Some idiot attacked me and Hakkai in the street yesterday afternoon, and I killed him. I didn't bother figuring out who he was or what he wanted, I just know he had it coming."

"You really expect me to believe you didn't recognize the man you were supposed to be delivering that heroin to?"

"All I _recognized_ was that the fucker had a knife on me—the rest was a reaction. You telling me that bastard was Rashii's man?"

"Maybe he wouldn't have attacked you if you'd delivered the heroin."

"Yeah, well that wasn't really an option."

Loki's eyes are murderous and dark, and he shoulders in closer to me so we're face to face, "Why don't you tell me what's wrong with you? I'd honestly like to know. Are you just some fucked up kid with a death wish, or are you really that stupid? It seems like, ever since you were seventeen years old, you've been here, in my town, doing everything you could think of to get under my skin, doing everything except _begging_ me to kill you."

"I just don't like playing your stupid games, I guess."

"I think you want to die. That's the only excuse I can think of for you; I mean…" he backs off and starts to pace a little, one hand lifted to his forehead, like just thinking about it is exhausting, "You walked into my place night before last and told me to my face that you'd deliver that heroin at noon yesterday, and next thing I know, Rashii's man is dead, and you're responsible for it. Not only was the heroin not paid for, it was never delivered, and the only thing I can figure is that _you_ still have it. Now why would you do that?" He stops dead again to give me a long, cold look, "Even you must know how stupid it would be to steal anything from me."

With a sigh, I begin trying to explain what happened. "I didn't steal your heroin, Loki. I'd never do something that nuts."

"That's twice you haven't delivered it now, for no good reason. You sure you don't want to die?" He gets out what looks like a long piece of lead pipe. "I can help you with that, if that's what you want."

"There was a good reason, both times."

"I distinctly remember telling you you'd be compensated this time."

"That wasn't the problem."

I watch him grind his teeth, "I'm getting impatient, Gojyo. Why didn't you deliver the drugs?"

"I couldn't."

"_Couldn't_? Why?"

"Because it's gone."

Loki moves closer to me again, arm cocked like he's ready to let me have it with that pipe. "Gone. Where?"

I shrug at him, "Hakkai found it the other night, while I was out seeing you. He flushed it down the toilet when I refused to tell him who it belonged too."

His dead eyes light up with shock and rage, "You better be shitting me, you little punk."

"I wish. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me. It's all gone."

He doesn't say anything, just hits the tree branch nearest to him with his pipe, snapping it off like it's a wooden chopstick, not a hunk of wood as thick as my femur.

"Sorry about that. Not much I could do about it; then Rashii's dude came hunting for me after I missed the meet, pulled a knife, and I had to put him down. It's been a shitty week for everybody, I guess."

"You realize you'll have to pay me back for that of course." Loki's right in my face again.

"I don't see how I can. That was a lot of heroin—way, way more than I can ever pay for—and it wasn't really my fault in the first place."

"Oh, then why don't I have a word with your partner?"

I'm quiet, silently hoping he doesn't decide to actually do that. If Loki goes beating our door down and attacking Hakkai, there won't be anything I can do to prevent it, and Hakkai doesn't deserve that kind of bullshit surprise. Besides, I could never even begin to explain the why.

"I didn't think so."

"What'dya' want from me? Wanna' kill me over it? Go ahead and try." I clench my fists readily. There are nine of them, but I don't think they're that tough.

"Don't tempt me. And don't think you can get out of paying for that, because as far as I'm concerned, you owe me six million yen.

"I ain't got it."

"Then you'll have to come up with some other way to pay me back."

"Got any suggestions? 'Cause I'm coming up blank."

He eyes me up and down, and there's something sly in his expression. "What about the heist?"

"What about it? One thing at a time, Loki—_damn_."

"Do you have the recon information I need or not?"

He's gonna' be seriously pissed when he finds out I don't have anything he needs at all. The only thing that might keep him from wasting me is that Hakkai is less than a hundred yards away, in the house, just waiting for me to come back inside.

"Not yet, but you gave me til the end of the week, so what'd you expect?"

"Something better than that."

"Fuck off, all right? I've been busy this week, but I can still get the info after Hakkai's gone." Maybe the smartest way to handle this potential heist is to go up and talk to Sanzo about it. There might be a way to tell him, casually, about what's about to go down, then he can just be ready for it. I might be able to tell him I overheard about it somewhere, the way I was going to tell Hakkai, the only problem is, Sanzo already knows I'm up to no good, so he might be able to guess that I'm involved. But if I tip him off, shouldn't he just be happy I'm still on his side and not make a big deal of the way I'm involved? I decide that's what I better do. As soon as possible. I'll jerk Loki's chain and promise to do the recon tomorrow, I can go to the temple, have a quick, non-specific word with Sanzo, and then, even if Loki has some guys tailing me, it'll look like what I'm supposed to be doing.

I guess that's best.

Man, Sanzo is going to be _so_ pissed when I tell him-

Loki cuts into my thoughts, stonily. "You're taking us up there."

I gawk at him, not sure I heard that right, "Um. What?"

"I've had it with your bullshit, Gojyo: you're ripping me off and cheating me at every twist and turn, and you're even dumb enough to think you can get away with it, but you're wrong. Nobody plays me for a fool and lives."

I tense up a little, look his guys over again, and now they all look pretty eager, with sparkles in their eyes. "I'm warning you, Loki: you'll never get away with it."

"Believe me, if I could kill you that easily I would have done it by now. No, no, I've thought of a good use for you. You're going to take us up there—right now, tonight—help my men run their heist, let me have your cut, and that's the only way I'll let this mess with the heroin slide."

"Woah, woah, woah. No, no. Like I already said, I'll do your recon, but I'm not helping you rip that place off, so you can just forget it."

"I'm not giving you an option."

"I don't give a shit. I can tell you how to get in and out without being caught, or whatever, but I'm not going to help you go in there and take what you want. No way in hell."

"I think you will."

"Give me one good reason why I should. I was already sticking my neck way out just agreeing to do the recon for that job."

"Listen here, you punk." He pushes me back into a tree with his length of pipe, "You are going to help, or I'm just gonna' ice you, raid your place and hock everything I find."

"You're welcome to fucking try." I laugh.

"Maybe I won't win, maybe I'll waste a lot of men, but I'm willing to bet Hakkai's gonna' come out of that house to investigate, and when he does, I'll ice him too."

I laugh even harder, "Like you even could!"

"Even if I can't, he's going to see what's happening, and he's going to put it all together, and then your nasty secret will be out in the open, and there won't be any way to hide our business agreement. I doubt he'll want to stick around very long after that."

I try to fight the sinking feeling I'm getting in my chest and stomach.

"Do you?" Loki sneers.

I don't move, but I'm pretty sure he's right.

He leans in even closer to my face now, one cold hand on my shoulder, "I'll make sure he understands exactly what you've been doing for me and how, and, most importantly, what we're _planning_ to do next."

My heart tenses up so bad it hurts to feel it beating. "You wouldn't…"

"Oh, I will. No skin off my nose. Of course…if you're a good boy and you go with us now, he never has to know about any of this—no one ever has to know—you'll pay me off for the heroin you lost, and you and I will be square. Doesn't that sound like a better deal to you?"

It _does_ sound like a better deal, except that ripping off Sanzo isn't worth it, not when it's going to fuck up everything between me and the guys.

Loki grins sharply, 'cause he knows he just has to twist my dick the right way to change my mind. "What's the hesitation for, Gojyo? Hakkai could come out here at any moment and see us talking, couldn't he? What's he going to think? That we're friends now?"

I should just tell him no and that nothing is worth that to me, but I know that's not true. I'm on the edge of a huge, sheer cliff right now, and there's not much to keep me from falling.

Again it crosses my mind that if I could just get Hakkai to help me, I could be done with Loki forever, but it's not like we can just murder Loki and go on our merry way. If he dies, the whole gangs coming after us—both of us—and that means more fighting and violence and murder. If it were just my consequences, that'd be one thing, but whatever I do next will affect Hakkai, and I have no right to throw him into the middle of a gang fight without warning.

I remember the way he was when we got back from India, so relieved and cheerful, all but hiding from the outside world, for weeks and weeks, with his books and his garden. I'd teased him about being a hermit, but I understood the reality. Eventually, Sanzo convinced us to do some things for him, the way we used to, and even though Hakkai didn't complain about it, I could see and feel how reluctant he was. I remember him saying, '…_I thought this was over…maybe it never will be…'_

And then he decided to move to Hong Kong, and I know that, at the heart of it all, Hakkai was just trying really desperately to find peace.

Right now, he's inside, feeding Jeep, and he thinks everything is serene and quiet, all around the house. He has no idea how close he is to getting sucked into another blood-fest.

I don't want him to be pissed at me for getting into trouble, or to resent me for roping him into it too. I don't want him to think I'm a lowlife criminal, even if it's true. I can lie to Sanzo and Goku, and I can brush off what they think, and I can live with it if they look down on me, even if it sucks, but not Hakkai. The way he thinks of me and acts toward me is really important to me. I don't ever want him to feel like he made a mistake sticking by me for so long.

He has his peace, and I can't ruin it for him, so I have to keep him out of this mess, no matter what it costs me.

Loki obviously knows I have some reason to hesitate, and he capitalizes on that in a heartbeat.

"The longer we stand out here talking about it, the later it will be when you get home. Now come on."

I shake my head, weakly, not knowing if there's anything I can say to get out of this, "Give me one good reason why I should do this."

"You _owe_ me, punk."  
"I don't owe you shit."

"Listen to this then." He grabs the front of my shirt, "If you don't go with me, we'll barge in and do things our way. I can't promise innocent men won't die."

That's all it took last time to convince me, but I try to muscle through it this time. "Good luck to you then. Believe it or not, there are some pretty tough people up there, and I'll put money on it that, if you try that, none of your men are coming back."

"That could be. But, we are bringing more than enough firepower of our own." He pulls his coat open to show me the twin pistols riding on his hips. "Innocent people are going to die, whether my men come back or not. And if I'm going down, so are you."

I glare at him, "Not if I'm not there."

He laughs at me, "Oh yes. If for any reason this heist doesn't go well, I'll be sure to let them know who they have to thank for pointing me in the right direction. That, on top of Hakkai stumbling across me in your front yard? I think it's a convincing piece of evidence. I think it's more than enough to wreck your already tainted name. And, if it's not, I'm pretty sure your friends in town have seen you do enough seedy shit in the last few months to finish the job."

That could be true. Even Ton knew I was fucking around with Loki, somehow. Sanzo heard something from somewhere too. The whole town probably knows about it, one way or another, and if my friends find out I'm helping this piece of shit…

Now I don't even have time to tell Hakkai or Sanzo.

I take a long look at my house. There is some desperate part of me that really wants him to be on my side. At least if I could tell him the truth, he might be mad, but not everything would be absolutely destroyed.

It's all I have, my deal with the guys. It's all I've ever had in my whole worthless, pathetic life, and I'll do anything to protect it.

There's no way I can talk to him right now. He can't help me.

"C'mon, Gojyo." Loki whispers, leaning close to my face again and staring me in the eyes, "If you help us, no one will get hurt. No one will ever find out you were involved. No one will ever know about you and me. That's my word as a gentleman."

I don't trust his word for shit, but I have to hope it's legit this time. I have to hope I can believe what he's saying.

I throw myself head-first off that cliff, hoping against hope that there's a soft landing, somewhere below me.

"We have to be fucking _quiet_, got that?"

"No one's running in and ringing the gong, I promise."

"I mean it, Loki. Every single one of your stupid asshole goons has to keep his face shut, and don't run off with just any old shit you like: you've got a target, so stick to it."

"Gojyo, I once ripped the larynx out of a whore because I didn't like the sound of her moaning—I know how to make people be quiet. And you can rest assured that I'm not interested in anything there that's _not_ the target."

"Nobody can ever, _ever_ know I was there, you understand? Don't talk about it to anybody. Don't fucking _tell_ anybody. Don't even mention it to me."

"No one will know." He practically purrs.

"This is the last thing I do for you."

He chuckles. "Are those your terms?"

It's all I can do to nod.

"Then these are mine: you go the whole way, lead us right up there, show us the best way to get in, lead us to the target, don't whine or bitch or try to run away, just do what you're told, and when it's over, don't even _think_ about asking for your cut. The price we agreed on for the recon earlier is completely off the table now; you're doing this to pay me back for the heroin you lost, and this is the only thing I can do for you to help you stay on my good side."

"I've never been on your good side, Loki." I shake his hand, begrudgingly.

We turn away from my house and start to head up the path. I don't bother going inside to tell Hakkai I'm leaving or to try to explain where I'm going, because there's no way I can. I just give the place a long, long look over my shoulder as I turn away and start to lead Loki and his gang up the trail.

It's a long way, and the night is cold. The moon seems dull and the air smells like rain. I'm shuddering as we go along, partly because I didn't bring my jacket, and partly because I'm nervous. As I go, I try to think of some way to get out of this.

Maybe if I act quick, wait it out until we're far enough from my house, then I can just rip the shit out of all these guys, including Loki, and go home. It makes sense, since Hakkai finding out I'm in league with Loki is the only thing that's keeping me from fighting my way out in the first place.

We round a bend and go a little further into the woods where the wind whips past my ears, making them feel numb. The light of my house is almost completely out of sight;

Just a little further, and then I think I can get away with decapitating these assholes.

Suddenly, Loki puts an unwelcome, clawed hand on my shoulder, "The gang is growing, Gojyo."

I don't answer.

"When all my men went mad and ran away a few years back, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to rebuild, but I was determined to try. And now, at last, things are coming together again. There are two hundred of us now. That's a far cry from what I used to have, I know, but it's not bad—I'd say it's a start, wouldn't you?"

I snort. "You don't count me in that little statistic, do you?"

"Of course not. You've made it very clear that you're not a member of our family."

"_Family_." I sneer.

"Something a mutt like you knows very little about, I'm sure."

The light of my house is out of sight now. Just a few more steps, and then I won't have to listen to this asshole insult me anymore. I can hardly wait to slice his head off.

"Still, it's a decent amount of men, all highly loyal to me—I _am_ the father many of them never had—and if anything ever happened to me, you can bet your lying ass they'd do whatever it took to avenge me."

"Good for you." Here's as good a place as any; I can take all nine of them out in a couple swings of my weapon, and no one will ever know. It'll take days before anyone finds them out here."

"Good for me." Loki agrees. "Bad for you.

I hear a gun cock and feel the icy touch of a steel muzzle on the back of my neck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glare at him.

Loki grins back, "For instance, if you thought you could kill me out here and just go home, the rest of my men would hunt you down. The whole gang knows where I am tonight—it's not often I leave the brothel, as you know—they know I came over here to have a word with you. If I come up missing, they won't have to investigate very hard to figure out you're to blame, and then you can rest assured that they'll hunt you _and_ Hakkai all over the countryside until you're both dead, along with anyone who tries to help you."

The gun is still resting at the base of my neck, and I'm still shuddering a little, this time more with anger than with anything else.

"Something to think about, that's all. You're a tough couple of boys, I know that, but even if you get out with your lives, you'll have a hard time explaining why my gang is after you, don't you think?"

"Not really. Hakkai knows I hate you and you hate me."

"He also knows that we've had an agreement for more than ten years now to leave each other alone. Don't you think, if that agreement breaks suddenly, it'll raise a few questions? You don't ice a gang lord unless you're in deep shit with him."

I grit my teeth and stare straight ahead, hating him more than ever.

There's a laugh in his voice as he says, "And you are definitely in deep, deep shit with me, Gojyo. You ought to be thanking me for inviting you along on this little heist of ours, or else we might be having serious problems."

"Thanks for nothing, asshole."

The gun digs, ever so slightly into my skin, "I suggest you walk a little faster. I'm liable to get sick of you before too long, and I can't guarantee I won't blow the back of your head open when I do."

It doesn't change anything. It _shouldn't_. I should still kill him while I have a chance.

"Keep that cute, little stick of yours away from me too, Gojyo. Sharp objects make me nervous, and you don't want my trigger finger getting shaky."

There's nothing I can do to get rid of him right now, but I'm keeping my eyes open for any opportunity. Any opportunity at all.

We walk and walk until the wound in my side is aching sharply, and every breath hurts, and I'm coughing like a maniac. The cold air makes my lungs hurt, and my fingers and ears feel numb too. I smoke a few cigarettes, trying to calm down and warm up, but Loki's pistol is always hovering right by my head, and the closer we get to our destination, the more wild and afraid and sick I feel. I'm coughing so hard, I expect to heave up my lungs, and everyone in the gang is glaring at me, like it annoys them.

Fuck 'em.

Loki tells me calmly, "Maybe you should cut back on how much you smoke there, kiddo. Sounds like it's beginning to take its toll." He lights a cigarette of his own and blows smoke right in my face.

"Like you care." I choke.

"Not even close. But you should try to shut up, since we're almost there, if I'm not mistaken."

That's true. I can see it now, standing silent and proud, just like Sanzo, under the dull moon. I wish there was some way I could see him right now, to warn him what's coming. Even if he was going to be pissed off about it, at least he could stop this shit from happening.

When we're half a mile away, we pull up, and I stand there, with Loki's gun against my head, looking out at the temple and feeling my stomach curl up inside me. I shouldn't be doing this. I swore I wouldn't do this. I tuck my freezing hands into my pockets and try to think, one more time, desperately, if there's any way I can keep this from happening.

The others watch me closely, then, in a moment or two, Loki brushes the muzzle of his pistol across my earlobe, "What's the hold up?"

If I try to fight now, he'll blow my brains out. If I try to back out, these dicks will storm the temple, take everything they want, kill any monks who get in their way, and probably, eventually, get into it with Sanzo and Goku, and when Loki's men tell Sanzo and Goku I brought them up here, it won't matter if I backed out or not.

Loki murmurs in my ear, "Remember, the only way to make sure your friends never, ever find out that you were here, is just to go along with it. Nobody gets hurt. We don't take anything that's not the target. No one has to know you were an accomplice."

That word makes me feel sicker than ever, and I almost throw up.

"You should have just delivered the heroin, am I right?"

"I never should have gotten involved with you." I say so quietly I can barely hear my own voice.

Loki laughs out loud, "That's true. You and I did our best to stay out of each other's hair for ten years for a reason, you know. One of us is bound to fuck the other over, eventually. But, don't get me wrong, Gojyo—you're the one who fucked _me_ over, and I'm being ridiculously merciful right now, so why don't you quit stalling and show us the way in?"

_Fuck me._

I lead them far to the left of the main gate, before I take them the rest of the way to the wall. It's tall and dark and cold as I press against it, breathing hard, mind racing, heart pounding. Loki hasn't taken his gun off me, not even for a second, and I'm starting to think some of the others have their guns on me too.

_Fuck me, there's really no way out of this._

There's a tree there that Goku and me used to climb, back in the day, when we'd be fooling around outside the temple and accidentally get locked out. It doesn't have many branches around the base, because they've all been trimmed so no one can climb up, and it bows over the wall just enough to land on the other side. An average guy could never get up in that tree and go over the wall without being seen, but Goku and me used to do it all the time.

I almost remember why.

I was twenty, Goku was sixteen, we met not that long ago, but I always kinda' liked the way we got along. I always kinda' liked the feeling of having a little brother. When I was a kid, I used to think about everything Jien was to me, and I always wished I could have at least some part of that: a little brother to look up to me and think I was cool and tough. A little brother who needed me.

Goku wasn't always that. I never would have guessed he looked up to me, even though Hakkai said that he did, and he was tough enough on his own not to need me, but sometimes, it was nice to pretend I might be those things to him, in some small, unmentioned way. For the most part, we just bickered and fought all the time, but even that made me think of being with Jien somehow.

It was enough to get a lonely twenty-year-old kid to hang out with an obnoxious little punk like Goku.

Sanzo told him not to leave the outer wall—he did that sometimes, when he was feeling especially controlling or parental—but Goku wanted to show me some stupid patch of berries he'd found, somewhere, while Sanzo and Hakkai sat and had tea and made boring, adult conversation, and it wasn't hard to talk me into it, since I didn't want anything to do with tea _or_ adult conversation that day, and since it had nothing to do with me whether Sanzo wanted Goku to leave the temple or not.

We convinced the monk who was watching the gate to let us out, 'cause he was young and Goku was friends with him, and then we walked a few miles to the berries Goku wanted to eat, loaded up until we were both sick, and walked back. By the time we were back though, guard duty had rotated, and Goku's buddy was gone and there was some dick who didn't want to let us in.

Goku said the only way to get back in without Sanzo screaming at both of us was to try to sneak in.

"_Why in the hell would he scream at me too? I can leave the temple whenever I want."_

"'_Cause ya' let me leave. _Duh_!"_

"_So what? I'm not in charge of you!"_

"_Sanzo's still gonna' blame ya."_

"_Or he'll just blame _you_ since this is _your_ fault, monkey."_

"_Nuh-uh. I don't know any better—I'm just a stupid kid—you're s'posed ta' be all grown up and stuff."_

I really did feel grown up back then. Hard to believe just how damn young I really was.

We found this tree, after wandering around the wall for a while, trying to be quiet and giving each other shit, and Goku jumped up in it easy. He didn't think I'd be able to, and I remember he seemed kind of impressed when I leapt straight up, caught the exact same branch he'd grabbed, and dropped lightly onto the wall, grinning.

"_Eat my ass, monkey."_

Loki's gang is watching me, but I lean heavily on the wall, closing my eyes. Last time I saw Goku, I was such a dick to him…and I'm not even sure why. It just sort of happened. Maybe everything that happened with Hakkai and that damn heroin got me riled up. Maybe I was an ass to him for the same reason I was an ass to Rong. The difference is, Goku _is_ like my little brother, and I finally figured out that he _does_ look up to me and think I'm cool and wants my approval, just like how I felt about Jien when I was a kid. Maybe not so much now that he's an adult, but I know it's still there, a little. I took everything negative inside of me that day out on him and his girlfriend, and there's no excuse for that.

Is there any apology that's ever going to be good enough?

Not after tonight. After tonight, maybe I won't ever be able to come and face Goku again.

_The only way to make sure he never finds out…is to do this._

"'Kay." I sigh. "We should wait a couple hours before we go in."

Loki sounds pissed, "A couple of hours? It's midnight _now_."

It is, isn't it? Back at home, Hakkai's probably wondering where in the hell I went. I went out to smoke and clear my head at ten-thirty.

"Three hours, just to be safe." I say. "At three am, we'll go over the wall. Until then, we wait."

"This had better not be your way of trying to find a way out."

"No." I turn my back to the freezing wall and slide to the ground, starting up another cigarette and taking a long drag, "You brought me along so you could get in without being seen. If you don't wanna' get caught doing this and get into a fight with Sanzo—and believe me, you _don't_—we gotta' wait a while."

He snorts, but I guess that's good enough for him, because he turns away to talk to his men.

I wish I _could _stall somehow. I wish I could warn the others somehow. I know it's impossible, and I realize exactly what an idiot I am. I should have told Sanzo what was going on the day Loki told me about the heist. I thought I could handle this though. I honestly believed I had it all under control. Obviously I haven't had any control over anything in a long time.

The next three hours, I swear are the fastest hours of my life. Loki orders a couple of his guys to stand watch over me, with their guns, in case I try to run, or fight, or sound an alarm, or whatever, but I barely pay attention to that. I sit on the icy ground and feel the cold seeping through my thin, pathetic t-shirt, and smoke cigarette after cigarette, and try to separate myself from what I'm about to do.

I never should have agreed to this, but I really didn't have a choice.

_That's not true. You should have said no, and if that meant Hakkai and the guys found out about what you're up to, that's just the price you pay for getting involved with Loki in the first place._

I don't want them to know though. I don't want them all to look at me and hate me and be angry and shun me for this.

_Maybe they wouldn't._

Sanzo definitely would. Hakkai and Goku might not, at first, but they'd be really pissed, and the more they found out about everything I've done in the last few months, the more likely they'd be to dump me too.

_This is the only way. As long as they don't find out I was here, it'll be okay._

Okay? How can it possibly be okay? Loki's stealing shit right out of Sanzo's goddamn temple. There's nothing okay about that, whether I'm involved or not.

I close my eyes again, but even then I can't think of a way to make this stop.

If I'd never gotten involved with Loki, this wouldn't be happening—that's where everything went wrong, and there's nothing I can do to fix it now. That was a huge mistake, and there's no taking that one back.

_Please just don't let the guys find out… Please, please, please._

The guys are all I have; if I lose them, I'm not sure I can live with that…

Three hours are up before I know it, and then I make Loki wait another half hour, just because I really, really don't want to do this. I tell him it's because we have to make sure everyone's gone to bed, but he doesn't put up with that for long. He gets impatient after thirty minutes and sticks his gun in my face and orders me to get a move on.

Then there's just no going back.

I jump up in the tree and swing myself onto the wall, just like I have a million different times, for a million different reasons, with Goku. I think I did it with Hakkai once or twice too, because we wanted to surprise Goku and Sanzo, over something dumb, like a birthday, or whatever.

I'm not with Goku _or_ Hakkai now though. Nine nasty-fuck gangbangers come after me as I drop down into the shadow of the wall and stand there, staring at the temple in the distance. All the lights are out, so everybody's in bed, except for maybe a handful of sentries who are patrolling the area. I don't know exactly where the sentries are—I was supposed to find that out when I came up here for reconnaissance—still, I have a pretty good idea of what kind of areas they're going to be patrolling, and which ones they won't bother with.

Gesturing for Loki's gang to keep quiet, I start to lead the way across the first garden and over to the inner wall, which is a little shorter, but I've never found a tree that could get me over it. Of course, I never really looked either.

Instead, there's a gap in it where a little stream runs through. A tunnel almost. Of course, there's a grate to make sure no one can use it to get into the temple, but Goku and me figured out how to get through that too. I wade down into the water, indicating for the others to follow me. They stand around the bank and grumble about it.

"This is the only way." I hiss at Loki, and then he makes them come after me, but they keep right on bitching. What a bunch of babies. The water isn't even up to my knees.

It is really damn cold though.

I get out my switchblade and pop it open, loosen a few screws and pull the grate off, and then I set it to the side and lead the way in. I'll have to put it back on the way out and hope nobody comes by and notices before then. If an alarm gets raised, for any reason, I'll be seriously fucked, because I'll never be able to explain to Goku and Sanzo what I'm doing here.

We're in the first courtyard now. It's sort of a zen garden I guess, so there's not a lot of trees or bushes or anything to hide behind. The sand looks white under the moonlight. In the distance, I see a sentry, stalking up the wall, but he's too far away, and he's not looking in the right direction, so we sneak across and step into the stark, black shadow of the final wall, sneak around to where I know of a small side gate that's almost completely overgrown with vines. It's something you'd never be able to find if you hadn't been through it a million times. Goku's the one who showed it to me, of course. Not for any real reason, just because he wanted to sneak up on Sanzo and Hakkai one day.

He's the one who showed me that there's a small gap in the vines, hidden behind some leaves, and that if you reach through and jiggle the lock, it pops open, because it's rusty and no one ever uses it or fixes it. The only thing about the gate is that it whines when it opens, and that's just something we have to live with tonight.

I squeeze my hand through and pop the lock, ease the gate open as slowly as I can so it just barely creaks, and gesture for the others to go in, carefully, while I hold it.

Then we're inside the innermost courtyard. It's leafy and full of trees and grass and shit. Right now, some of the trees are bare, because it's October, but there's still enough for cover. I shut the gate and sneak through the courtyard, always glancing around for guards, because this is where most of them will be. We creep under windows and stick to shadows and trees to hide us, until we finally come around to the door. Not the front door, just a side door to the temple. It's got a single guard standing there, yawning and looking bored as hell, but he shouldn't be a problem.

One of Loki's guys starts to move forward, gun in hand, like he's gonna' go and knock the monk out, but I grab his shoulder and shake my head.

Loki himself is looking at me steadily, and he demands, quietly, "How do we get past him?"

I point up.

There's a window about eight feet above my head.

Loki looks at it skeptically.

Of course, all the windows in the temple are supposed to be locked, but last I knew, this one is broken and it doesn't lock, and Sanzo doesn't bother fixing it because if anyone ever got this far into the temple without being detected, there's probably not a lot anyone can do to keep them out. Or because Sanzo's full of himself and doesn't think that will ever be a problem. Who knows?

There's also a clump of vines growing there, but again, you have to be kinda' nimble to climb them, and even more nimble to get over to the window, seeing how the vines are growing a good three feet from its edge.

Apparently Loki can tell that's going to be an issue, because he divides his men up, choosing just three of his most capable guys to go in with me. After leaving two at the first wall, there's only four of them left to sit and wait out here.

"Don't fuck this up." He whispers to me, menacingly. Then he turns to the men who are going in with me, and I hear him tell them, "If he tries anything, shoot him in the face."

I'm past the point of trying anything to get out of this now. I think I just have to accept that I made a mistake getting mixed up with Loki, and now I'm fucked.

Just when I'm about to jump up and start climbing, one of the goons hisses, "Boss. Somebody's coming."

I hear it too: footsteps crunching through the dead, yellow grass, just around the corner, heading this way, in a careless, unhurried way.

All of us tumble back into the bushes and crouch there, as low as we can.

I hold my breath.

For a long time, nothing happens, and I don't hear the footsteps anymore.

One of the idiots with me suddenly decides it must be clear and tries to stand up, but I jerk him back down, and we keep waiting.

In a moment, I hear the footsteps again, swallow hard and watch down the wall to the corner.

A second later, somebody comes around it. He's tall and lean and I can't make out anything about his face, but I recognize the way he walks with his hands behind his head, all casual and happy-go-lucky.

My heart sinks as I watch Goku make his way toward us, whistling a little.

I wish like everything I could jump up and go out to him, apologize for the other day, apologize for tonight, and tell him what's going on. I wish that, somehow, he could help me get out of this.

If I even try that, Loki will make sure I end up dead and that my friends know what a lowlife I turned out to be.

Goku goes past us, just a few feet away, and heads toward the sentry by the door. "What's up, Pocky?" He says cheerfully. "I didn't know they put ya' on gate duty tonight."

"I traded places with Homuka. He didn't want to babysit the gate tonight. I take it you're patrolling, as usual? Or could you just not sleep?"

Goku laughs a little, "Patrol. I'd love ta' be sleepin' right now."

"Hm. I wonder how long Master Sanzo will have you on patrol duty. It seems unlike him."

"I dunno'. He's been nervous lately, but I dunno' why."

"Just the fact that he's asked _you_ to keep watch makes _me_ nervous too. It's as if he knows something we don't."

"Yeah, I guess it's kinda' strange."

"Does he have some reason to think we're going to be attacked?"

"He _says _he's seen weird people sneaking around lately. I dunno though. I think he's just on edge about some stuff."

Pocky asks, knowingly, "Your friend?"

Goku takes a second to answer, and I see him shrug, "It ain't really like Sanzo to be worried about him, but…ever since he heard those rumors, Sanzo's been all…I dunno'. Paranoid."

"I heard the last time he was here, Kumo wouldn't even let him in the gate."

_Wait a minute._ My heartbeat almost stops again. _They're talking about…me?_

"He let him in, he was just tryin' ta' escort him all the way inside. I dunno' what that was about."

"Then, I take it Master Sanzo doesn't trust this friend of yours."

I hear Goku's voice turn defensive right away, "We _both_ trust him, Pocky. I dunno' why Sanzo's got me patrolling ev'ry night, but I know it's got nothin' to do with Gojyo."

"I just meant, Master Sanzo must have some reason for acting the way he's been acting."

"I don't think Sanzo bein' extra cautious lately has anything to do with him bein' concerned about Gojyo."

I sit back against the wall, trying to breathe normally. What did I do to set Sanzo's radar off? If Sanzo's seen strangers sneaking around near the temple, that would be Loki's guys who came up here to try to find out how to break in, but what's that have to do with me? Goku's gotta' be wrong: if Kumo wouldn't let me in the gate, and Sanzo's got Goku patrolling at night, did he _know_ somehow I was planning to do this? What could I have done to tip him off?

Suddenly, all I want is to get out of here and run home and hide under my bed from the whole world for a couple of days, or at least until things start to make sense again.

"I'm sorry." Pocky says simply. "I didn't mean to point fingers at your friend. Obviously you both care a lot about him."

I close my eyes.

"No sweat." Goku says with that cheerful, forgiving way he has. "Anyway, I better keep movin', just in case somethin' _does_ happen."

I hear him start to walk away.

It's all I can do to stop myself from calling after him.

The next thing I know, Loki's shoving at me with his gun and pointing to the window.

"No." I snap, standing up. "I'm out of here—do the rest yourself."

He gets up and glares into my eyes, "It sounds like your buddies are real worried about you, Gojyo. Of course, it's all over town that you haven't been yourself lately. Do you want to give them a _real_ reason to be worried about you?"

The gun is right in my face again. I can sense his men's bloodlust.

"Nothing's changed." He reminds me softly. "If you back out on me now, there won't be any way for you to hide what you've done."

"I don't give a shit. There's no way I'm-"

"I'll kill you, Gojyo." He pushes me back into the wall with his pistol, pressing it tight into my forehead until I can feel it leaving a mark there. "I'll blow your brains all over, right here, and then I'll leave you somewhere they're likely to trip over you in the dark."

"He'll kill you for that." I sputter, angry as hell. "They all will. You'll regret it so bad."

"Maybe. But before they do, I'll make sure they know exactly what you did. I'll make sure they know you intended to betray them."

"Like it'll even matter after I'm dead."

For a long time, we glare at each other, and I feel his men watching and waiting, crowding around me, just waiting for him to snap his fingers so they can snap my neck. I think about summoning my shakujou, but I'm not sure I can right now. I'm pretty sure that if I even try that, Loki will have a bullet between my eyes. I haven't been having a great life lately, but that doesn't mean I want to stop living.

I feel my heart racing and I'm panting, shaking worse than ever from the cold and the anxiety. I don't want to die. I really don't. With that gun against my head, there's not much I can do to keep from dying. Not much I can do, other than whatever he wants.

Loki murmurs, "Your dying here will not keep me from robbing this place. Do you understand?"

My mouth is too dry to answer, so I just nod instead.

"Good. Then as long as we have an understanding…" He pistol whips my face, suddenly, knocking me to the ground, and I'm dazed for a moment. His guys haul me to my feet and shove me into the wall. "Get moving." Loki growls.

It takes me a sec to get myself together, and when I can kinda' see again, there's blood streaming down from my forehead. I wipe it away and force myself to take a deep breath. If I attack him now, that will blow everything, and as long as he's got six guys with guns on me, I'm not getting out of a fight with Loki alive.

I can't do nothing either. I turn back to glare over my shoulder at him, "You're gonna' be sorry you did that."

"Someday, maybe. But not tonight. You're on too thin of ice tonight for you to do anything about it. Don't forget, you're the only one here who cares about doing this job quietly. Now, for the last time, get going."

There's nothing else to do, so I jump up and grab hold of the vines above me, pulling myself up hand over hand until I'm level with the window, and then I swing myself over onto the ledge and slide the window open easily, drop down into the dark.

I'm in a hallway now. It's narrow, and smooth, without so much as a candle to light it, and the temple smells like wood and dusty scrolls and incense, and I stand there, letting my eyes adjust as I wait for Loki's men, with the guilt sitting heavy in my chest. I can't believe I'm actually going to do this. I can't believe there's no way out of this.

It takes the other guys a little longer to work their way up. I don't know if that's because I've done this before or because I'm in better shape, and I'm younger, but either way, I have to wait almost five minutes before all three of them are in the hallway with me, and by that time, I'm about to go nuts from nervousness. Anybody could come along at any given second. Just because it's late and the temple's dark doesn't mean nobody's around. Freaking _Sanzo_ himself could come around the corner for all I know.

In a way, I almost wish he would. I mean, he'd be mad as hell about all this, but maybe I could talk to him and he'd just get it. Even Sanzo would have to understand if I explained all this to him. I mean, Loki stuck a gun to my face and straight up told me he'd kill me. He was threatening to ruin my whole life and everything in it that I cared about. Wouldn't Sanzo understand that?

No. Sanzo and me have never connected, not from the second we first laid eyes on each other, and no matter what I say or do or tell him, no matter how hard I try to make him listen, he'd never believe me. He'd just think I'm a thief and a liar and an asshole, and then he'd stick a gun in my face and tell me he's going to kill me, just like Loki did. I could never get Sanzo to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. Hakkai and Goku, maybe, but never Sanzo.

_I've come this far…_ I think. The only way to save my life now is to go the rest of the way.

It takes us almost twenty minutes to wind through the temple halls. Normally, it would only take ten minutes to find the treasury, but it's hard to see, and we have to be careful and quiet, and every now and then, I see a monk or an acolyte, and then we have to duck out of sight until they're gone.

The longer it takes, the worse I feel, and before long, I feel like I've been wandering through the temple for years with just a distant hope of getting out. Even if I _do_ get out, Loki might kill me. He won't have any use for me after this, so what's going to stop him from blowing my head off? What can I do to stop him? If there were anything I could do to get out of this without dying, or to make this stop somehow, I would have done it by now, but I know that if I try to distract his guys or throw them off, they'll kill me. The one guy—the tallest of the three—always has his gun leveled on me, and every now and then, he nudges me between the shoulder blades with it, just to remind me it's there and to tell me to hurry. I think about leading them around in circles, or somewhere that's not the treasury, but I just don't see how that's going to work out for me. If I get caught in here I'm fucked. If I don't take them to the treasury, I'm still fucked. I'm fucked no matter what I do.

We finally get to a place where the hall is wider, and there are a couple candles, so we can see better, and I'm extra careful as I lead Loki's guys up to the treasury door. It's not very special: just a normal looking door in a pretty normal place, in a dead-end hall where you'd never think to look, and if you hadn't seen it before, you'd never know it was the treasury, because it just looks old and rickety, like a closet or a forgotten bathroom.

I hesitate there, staring at it hard, mind racing with any last-ditch effort I can come up with to prevent this, and I'm not even breathing.

One of the freaks I'm with taps me with his gun. "This it?"

"This is it." I mutter.

"It locked?"

I glare back at them, "Of course it's locked. It's a treasury, dumbass."

They all look at each other, and then one steps up and kneels down at the door, fucking around with the lock while the rest of us hang back. I think about making a run for it, but that's not going to solve anything either, and anyway, the tall asshole has me by the collar, just in case I try to make a move Loki wouldn't approve of.

"Remember." He growls. "Loki says ya' don't get a cut."

"And you don't take anything he didn't _tell_ you to take." I'm shaking all over as I try to light my next cigarette.

We wait a couple minutes more before the guy gets the door unlocked, and then it swings open, slowly. I stand there, barely breathing, staring hard into the room.

It's pitch black.

One of them shoves me forward, "Let's go."

I stumble in and grope my way along the wall, find a lantern and light it. I light a couple more, just so we can see, but I know if anybody happens to walk by, they'll notice someone's in here. This is the main treasury, and I'd be an idiot to think nobody's going to check by at some point, just to make sure everything's okay. It'll probably be Goku, and that'll make this nightmare complete.

The room isn't all that big—it's probably just twice the size of my living room—but it's stocked to the brim with cabinets and shelves and chests that are all stuffed with relics and artifacts and ancient weapons and sacred valuables: vases from dynasties past, solid-gold statues, gems the size of my eyes, tapestries with intricate, colorful designs. I don't know what all this shit is or why it's in Sanzo's temple, but I know it's important, for whatever reason. All I can remember is when Hakkai and me helped Sanzo do some inventory in here, not too long before we left for India.

"_What is all this shit?"_

I can hear his voice echoing around me in the room still.

"_It isn't shit, Gojyo. Everything you see around us has a high intrinsic value."_

_I remember staring at a ruby as red as my hair and almost as big as my fist, "Some of it would get us a nice price…but some of it…?" I picked up a beaten up, little copper pot. "Some of it just looks like something you'd get outta' a yard sale."_

"_An intrinsic value doesn't insinuate that it costs a lot of money. Some things are valuable for reasons not defined by monetary gain, but by their symbolism or the stories they embody."_

_I looked at him a while and then shrugged, "I don't get it."_

"_For example, much of what you see here is a tribute to Buddhism—relics of the religion, you might say—and a great deal of it has been placed in this temple for safe-keeping, to protect it from the weather, or to ensure that the wrong people don't get their hands on it. A lot of it has historic significance. There's so much ancient history in this room, Gojyo. Items that could tell the very history of China, if you cared to listen."_

"_Hn." I'd all but tossed the copper pot aside, and he'd picked it up at once and shined it up with a rag._

"_Of course, I know you're not even remotely interested in that, so let's just do what we came to do, shall we?"_

Looking back on it, that was a good day. At the time, I was just bored and annoyed, but now that it's nothing but a memory, I realize how important that day was to me. I realize now how lucky I was to always have Hakkai around. I'd give anything to have him with me now.

"Let's get this over with." I practically whisper.

The guys are already getting to it. They each have a big, burlap sack, and they're walking around the room, picking things out and stuffing them into the sacks, laughing to each other and making jokes. The tall guy is still standing there with his gun aimed at my head, but I ignore him and wander across the room, feeling dazed and sick. If you'd told me on that day we were helping with inventory that sometime in the future I'd be helping to rip off stuff in this room, I would have laughed at you, not because I was so against stealing, but because it was something I never could have seen myself doing.

I stagger and catch myself against one of the shelves, stand there a while to get myself together.

That little copper pot is sitting there, looking exactly like it did when Hakkai picked it up to shine it.

I pick it up now and stare at my warped reflection, and I barely recognize what I see.

_Hakkai…what would you say if you could see me now?_

I don't really want to know what Hakkai would say.

We're there for a grand total of ten minutes before the big man with the gun calls out, "That all of it or what?"

"That's everything Loki wanted." One of the others says, hefting his bag over his shoulder. "Guess the boss knows what this shit is."

"You know the boss." The third guy grins. He's a short, skinny, weasel-looking dude, and I was surprised Loki sent him before I watched him pick the lock on the door. "He always knows what's going on." He picks up a marble-sized pearl and fingers it. "We should all take a souvenir. Yeah? How about it?"

I turn on him right away, "No. No souvenirs. Your boss said to get what you came to get and leave the rest alone."

"Actually, he never said nothin' about that." The other meathead laughs. "_You_ were the one that said that, Gojyo."

"Loki and me had a deal. Nothing except the stuff he sent you in here to get."

The tall guy with the gun is being quiet, but he's still aiming that thing at me.

"Tell them." I snap at him. "Tell them nothing else."

Still nothing out of him. Not even a sign that he's thinking about listening to me.

Weasel boy is loading up his bag with gemstones and gold chains now.

"Hey!" I march over to him and grab him by the wrist, "Cut that out."

"Get off me, punk." He tries to wrench loose.

I give his arm a twist, dislocating it and forcing him to the ground.

He screams in pain.

"I said that's enough."

"Hey, you idiot!" The second guy takes a step toward me, "Who dy'a think you are?"

I turn to him next, feeling wild and furious, "I ain't takin' a cut, and you guys aren't taking anything extra. Not even a pebble off the floor."

The tall guy steps up behind me, and I feel his gun grinding into my back, "You ain't takin' a cut because you lost the boss's heroin, and you got no right tellin' us what to do."

"You fuckin' son of a bitch!" I wheel around to him.

He jams the gun in my face and forces me back. "Loki said ta' kill 'im if he tries somethin'. What'dya' think, boys? Should I drop 'im?"

"You double-crossing motherfuckers…"

"Naw, chill out." The other guy says, helping Weasel boy up. "I don't think Loki wants him dead. The gunshot would raise an alarm—let's just get outta' here; we've got enough stuff."

Tall man gives me a cocky smile, "Guess it's your lucky day, Gojyo."

"Sure is." I mumble.

He taps my jaw with his gun, then gestures for me to head to the door, "Let's go."

I don't move, "Put the extra stuff back."

All three of them laugh at me. "Boy, you're in no position to make demands. Don't you get we could waste ya' at any given second?"

"I brought you dicks in here and helped you figure this out because Loki and me had a deal. I'm not letting you leave with any extra shit, so put it back."

"That's enough." The tall guy says impatiently. "Either you're gonna' walk out of here right now, or I'm gonna' knock you inta' next Wednesday and drag ya' outta' here by your pretty, red hair. Walk."

I still don't move. I have to stay strong on this one, because I've given up on everything else, but I can't give up on this. I don't know what difference I think it'll make, but…

I can't let them just go out of here with anything they want.

"Gojyo." He glares at me, points the gun right at my eye so I can look down the barrel. "Move. Now."

"No can do."

"If you gotta' problem wth the operation, talk to the boss."

"I think you're the one with the problem, Atilla."

"For the last time, Gojyo. Get walking, or I'll beat your shit right out."

I open my mouth to tell him one last time to back off, before I rip his head off, but suddenly, there's a low, creaking sound on the other side of the room, followed by a sharp, surprised gasp.

All four of us whip around to stare.

The door is open just a crack, and I see a face staring through at us. An old face, worn from being around so long, but still sharp and intelligent, with dark, watchful eyes, and a severe mouth.

I recognize Kumo's face, just before he spins around and disappears, shout out, "Aw, shit!"

"Ru!" Weasel boy croaks out. "Somebody saw us!"

The tall guy with the gun—_Ru_ I guess—looks mad as hell, "Don't you think I know that?" He snarls. "Dammit, this is all your fault!" he jabs me in the chest with his gun. "Now you _have _to get a move on, or stay here and get caught. Make up your mind."

I'm already running for the door. I throw it open and stare down the hall, eyes threatening to fall out of their sockets, but Kumo is already way down at the other end, running and shouting, "Thieves, thieves! Sound the alarm! Alert Master Sanzo!"

"Fuck!" I duck out into the hall too and start running, "Hurry it up, idiots!"

The temple is still quiet and dark, but I know it won't be long before there are monks everywhere, running around looking for us and shouting. It won't be long before Sanzo's awake and he's hunting us down with his gun. Kumo might tell him right away that he saw me, or he might wait, but there's no way to tell. There's no way Kumo didn't recognize me.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I sprint around the corner, slip and almost lose my footing, keep right on running just as fast as I can.

The others are running with me, lugging their heavy bags of loot and waving their guns around at every twist and turn, like they expect to see someone pop out in front of them.

"Don't shoot anybody!" I shout, but I've given up on hoping these assholes will listen to anything I have to say, and I know that if a monk comes around the corner in front of us, he's going down, and I'm not sure there's anything I can do about it.

Next to me, Weasel boy trips and falls with a startled squawk.

My first instinct is to leave his ass, because he's a lying piece of shit, and if he can't keep up, that's his problem, but then I realize that if any of these dicks get left behind, they'll squeal on me faster than Goku eats a meal.

"Goddammit." I stop and turn back to pull him to his feet and shove him in front of me, "Hurry up!"

Suddenly it's my responsibility to make sure every one of Loki's eight dick head guys gets out of this place without a problem, or else I'm the one who's screwed.

Somewhere in the temple now, I hear voices. Not a lot of voices, but enough to scare me.

"Fuck. _Fuck_." I slide around another corner and run that much faster. In a moment, all the exits are going to be blocked off, and we'll never get out of here. We have to cover ground quicker. I cannot get caught doing this.

By now, Goku's probably already been alerted and he'll be on our ass like white on rice before I can even think about escaping. I wonder if Kumo told him he saw me. Maybe Goku won't even believe that. Probably not until he actually sees me rushing out of here with a bunch of gangbangers.

Up ahead, I see the window we came through. We're moving fast—that's a relief.

It's still open, and I almost dive out, but I skid to a halt instead and rush the others, shouting "Out, out, out! Out now!"

They pull up and start squirming through the window, one at a time, moaning and grumbling as they go, slowly making their way down the vines. I wait until the last one is through, but I don't wait until he's on the ground. I jump out and land roughly on the grass, jolting my stitches and coughing.

Loki's on me in a second, "What's going on?"

"We gotta' get out of here." I pant, shoving him off.

His three morons drop down from the vine with their loot and crowd around us. "Boss! Somebody saw us." Weasel boy fills him in right away.

Ru presses close to the wall with the others, gun raised, and snarls, "Big deal. I say we stick around and shoot 'em."

"We have to get out of here." I snap at Loki. "Right now."

He ignores me, "Did you get the stuff?"

"We got the stuff! We have to leave now!"

Loki glares at me, "You better not have pulled out prematurely."

"They got your shit, Loki! So how about you hold up your end of the deal and we get out of here before someone catches us?"

Already I can hear voices and pounding footsteps in the hall above us. Somebody shouts, "There's an open window here—they must have gone out this way!"

"Now, dammit." I hiss.

Loki nods and gestures to his men.

Immediately, I set off, jogging lightly over the grass, keeping close to the shadows and darting from cover to cover, always watching for any sign that we're being followed. Knowing Sanzo's monks, they won't jump down from the window—they'll waste the time it takes to go through the building and down into the inner court—but that still doesn't give us much of a head start. I run as fast as I dare, glancing over my shoulder every now and then to make sure Loki and his men are sticking with me, and nobody's coming after us.

There's shouting in the air now, monks yelling to each other across the grounds, and torches are being lit, illuminating the garden so it's harder to hide. I think I hear Goku's voice ringing out with the others, giving orders and leading the hunt.

Ahead of me is the side gate we came through. I slam against it, hard, fumbling with the lock, and throw it open, vault through into the garden, and keep running. More lights are coming on. There are wavering, orange torches in the distance, still too far away to catch up.

My heart slams in my throat and my head is spinning. I cannot get caught here. I _cannot_ get caught here.

For all I know, Kumo didn't recognize me. For all I know, Sanzo won't believe him anyway. There's no way they can _prove_ I was here.

_Just as long as I don't get caught…_

We reach the stream and I jump in, hugging the wall of the tunnel and watching as the others all slosh through.

In the distance someone calls, "The stream! They're in the water by the wall!"

A dart whistles past me and lodges in the stone right by my face.

"Hurry it up, dammit!" I bark as the last man wades past me, then I slam the grate shut, not bothering to screw it into place again. It won't slow the monks down much, but it might help a little.

Back in the outer courtyard, Loki's men are running zigzag across the grounds, dodging arrows that are now flying through the air and ducking behind things. "Gojyo!" Loki roars, "Which way to get out of here!"

"Fuck!" I race up beside him and shoulder him roughly, "Don't scream my name like that, dipshit!"

Monks come around us on one side of the garden, and then the other, surging toward us, meaning to trap us between them. They're shouting, "Stop right there!" sending darts after us in a steady stream. They're Buddhist, so they can't kill us—the darts are probably tipped with a drug.

One of Loki's men gets hit between the shoulders and falls with a scream, but his buddies pull him up and drag him. He yelps again and collapses.

"Leave him!" Somebody yells. It might have been Loki.

I practically scream, "We can't leave him, he'll talk!"

He growls, ferociously, swings around suddenly, and fires off two rounds with one of his pistols, blowing his own downed man full of holes, "Happy?"

"Psycho!"

Next he turns toward the first wave of monks that's coming at us and fires off another five shots, and I hear shouting, but none of the monks go down. They stop though and stare at us. They're too far away to see our faces, but I know they're scared. Some of them might be tough enough to fight, but they aren't tough enough to survive, and I'm not going to be responsible for Loki killing monks.

He's taking aim with his second gun.

I ram him hard and take him to the ground. We bounce and roll across the dead grass, shouting and struggling. Another bullet flies right past my arm, narrowly missing me. In the end, I land on top and pin him hard, lean close over his face and grate out, murderously, "Nobody gets killed!"

Loki knocks me off and scrambles up, firing one more arbitrary bullet at some of the monks who are brave enough to come closer. "Let's move boys!" he cries, running toward the wall again.

I jump up too. A dart lands right where I was just lying. "Sonnova bitch…" I race after the others, overtaking them quickly. We're almost to the wall. It looms above us, cold and smooth and impassible. Now there's an icy wind blowing.

"How do we get back to the other side?" Weasel boy whines.

That's part of the problem. Goku and I snuck into the temple a lot, but we never found a way to sneak out.

"Dammit."

I slide to a halt, almost falling down again, summon my shakujou and whip it back and forth, send the sickle flying up to the top of the wall.

The man nearest to me screams in shock and stumbles back, falls on his ass.

Above us, the sickle lodges in the stone, and I give a jerk to test it out.

Feels sturdy enough.

"Climb." I snap.

Nobody looks ready to trust the chain of the shakujou. They linger around staring and shifting nervously and glancing over their shoulders at the monks, who are getting closer and closer.

"It's the only way!"

Finally, with a curse, Loki steps forward, grasps the chain, and starts pulling himself up, hand over hand, "Let's go, you bastards!"

After that, the others follow him, reluctantly.

I stay at the bottom of the wall, hanging onto the shakujou so it doesn't disappear, watching them, trying not to think about the monks that are racing toward me, trying to focus, praying to every god I can think of that I won't get hit by a dart while I'm standing there.

Loki and two of his men are on top of the wall, reaching down to help the others up.

Someone behind me is yelling, "Stop right there!"

One of the idiots climbing loses his grip on his bag of loot and drops it. Goods go clattering all across the ground.

Loki starts screaming profanities, hysterically almost.

Next to me, an arrow hits the wall and lodges there. I guess even if they don't kill me, getting hit with an arrow is really going to hurt. And then again, there might be some guys around who are like Goku—not really Buddhists, just in charge of guarding the temple. There might even be a few heretics like Sanzo who will kill me, even if they _are_ Buddhist.

I close my eyes and hold my breath.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" A monk shouts.

The pound of my heart is painful. I can't look over my shoulder. I can't see how close they are, or I'll panic.

Four guys are on top of the wall now. Only two more to go…

An arrow almost hits me in the head. I duck to the side just in time, but it shakes the chain. The men still climbing almost fall.

"No, you idiot!" Someone behind me shouts, "Kumo said not to kill him!"

I grit my teeth, and it's really hard not to look back at them now. They know exactly who I am, and that means I'm seriously fucked.

"Where's Goku?" Someone demands. "He should be helping us."

I don't listen to the answer. I don't want to hear it.

There's one guy left on the chain.

"Hurry it up." I mutter under my breath.

"Stop where you are, immediately! In the name of Priest Genjyo Sanzo!"

I close my eyes and feel a crushing pain somewhere inside my chest. _That's supposed to be my line…right…?_ With a lot more sarcasm and flippancy, but I think I've said that same thing almost, at least a million times by now.

At last, all of Loki's men are on top of the wall. They don't wait around to find out if I'm going to make it before they dive down onto the other side.

That doesn't matter.

I finally turn to look at the monks who are racing up to me, weapons in hand. They're so close, I can make out their outraged, disbelieving expressions. I recognize some of them, but not on a first-name basis. I'm glad for that.

"Gojyo!" One of them yells. He at least knows _me_ on a first-name basis. "Stop!"

They're almost on me. A few short steps and I'll be in their hands.

_Sanzo's gonna' kill me for this._

Suddenly, all I wish is that Hakkai could be here with me. Not stealing treasure, necessarily, just…I've been in so many situations just like this one in my life, sometimes doing the right thing, sometimes doing the wrong thing, but it was always better when Hakkai was on my side. If he were here now, this incredibly close call would just be a joke for us later on, a good story to tell Goku and Sanzo when we all go to dinner for the hell of it.

He's not though. I'm pretty sure he never will be again.

The monk out in front is a big, muscley guy who looks like he's been training in martial arts all his life. He makes a dive for me, reaching out with big, meaty hands.

Right before he gets to me, I snap my wrist.

The shakujou rattles and pulls me up with a zip. I'm in the air for a moment, floating in the moonlight, and then my feet find the wall, just for a second before I leap off and fall to the other side, collapsing into the darkness beyond the temple. I let go of my shakujou, and it vanishes. I hit the ground and roll forward, springing up onto my feet in a single movement.

Loki's men are already way ahead of me, vanishing into the trees. I hear Loki screaming, "Scatter! Scatter!"

I run headlong into the woods too, and I don't stop running for a long, long time. Not until I can't see the temple behind me at all, but it takes a long time for the painful beat of my heart to slow, and that aching feeling inside never goes away.

It's almost five o'clock in the morning when I finally stumble home. Loki and his men ditched me a long, long time ago, even before they knew I was safely over the wall, and they never came looking for me. I didn't come down the main road, just in case any monks decided to chase me.

Not like it matters. They know where I live.

I'm exhausted, and I'm cold, I feel numb and scared and angry, my body's shaking uncontrollably and violently, and I'm coughing fiercely, unable to stop. The moon is dipping toward the west, and the night is freezing now, and windy. I feel rain building in the air, and I smell it.

I don't know why I'm bothering to come home at all. I don't know what the point is, after what I just did. I should get the hell out of town and never come back.

My heart's heavy. My stitched up side hurts bad.

More than anything, I'm disappointed and angry with myself, and I hate it. I hate what I did. I hate that I'm dumb and careless enough and traitorous enough to do it. I want to lie down on the road and pass out and never wake up.

_How could I? How could I?_

When Sanzo finds out—because the monks who saw me are definitely going to tell him—he'll come right to my house and kill me.

I still don't want to die, but maybe he deserves that, after what I just did.

_I'm sorry._

But that's not enough.

Nothing's enough. Even if I could give back what we took, he'd never forgive me for being such an asshole.

I'm surprised to see that the lights are on at home, and it makes me hesitate.

I don't want to go inside and face Hakkai. I don't want him to find out about what just happened, but there's no way to prevent it. So part of me wishes I could tell him.

He's my partner. I tell him all kinds of things, especially things like this. He's my partner—he could help me, I know he could. He could help me get the shit back. Maybe he could talk to Sanzo for me. Maybe he could at least go _with_ me to talk to Sanzo. He could somehow tell me what in the hell it is I should do. I wish he knew what I _should_ have done, some way I could have avoided this whole mess.

How great would it be for this to all be a dream? To wake up in my own bed and not have to worry about it?

In reality, Hakkai won't be able to overlook or forgive what I did any more than Sanzo can.

The wind blows through me, piercing my clothes and moving my hair, but I can't go in. I'd rather stand outside and freeze to death than go inside and face him. I'll stand there forever, if I want.

Not an option.

The door swings open and I see his silhouette against the light. "Gojyo? Where in the world have you been?"

I can't answer. I don't have a good lie for him, and I can never, ever tell him the truth.

"I looked all over for you—you just left without a word—are you all right?"

I'm not all right, and I haven't been in forever, and now maybe I never will be.

He's watching me, confused and trusting. Just for right now, he still believes in me and trusts me and gives a shit about me. Just for right now, he's my buddy and my partner and my brother.

Tomorrow though… Tomorrow…

I try to grin, but I can't meet his eyes, "Yeah, I'm cool."

He looks like he relaxes a little, probably just glad I'm not hammered, "Come inside. Where's your coat?"

"Still in the closet." I make my way up the steps and go past him without looking at him.

"You're bleeding." He sounds alarmed.

Probably from where Loki pistol-whipped me. I almost forgot about that, because it's the least of my problems right now.

I take a swipe at the half-dried blood on my forehead, "Oh, right. What'dya' know?"

Hakkai touches my arm, but I pull away, because I can't face him. I can hardly stand to be near him.

My own goddamn partner, and I can't tell him. I don't ever want him to know, and there's nothing I can do to keep him from finding out.

I just laugh like an idiot. "I'm alright, man. No worries."

"Where did you go?"

"Out with some of the guys. Sorry I left without saying anything…I was just… I wasn't thinking, I guess."

"You even went without your coat."

"I know. That was dumb."

He sighs, "I'm used to that, I suppose. Well, what happened to your face?"

I stand in the living room, not moving, not looking around, just staring across the house into the hallway. I wish I could disappear into my room and hide until this blows over, just hope and wish and pray that Sanzo never shows up to kill me.

"Gojyo? You're hurt."

I realize that I'm wet and muddy too: my shirt and my jeans are all torn and spattered with dirt, and the treads of my boots are all caked full of thick, black mud. There's no way to really explain that away.

"Can't you tell me what happened?" He asks, quietly, but insistently.

I manage to shrug, even though every move I make makes me feel like I'm going to throw up, and I still can't look at him, "I told you. I was just out with some of the guys."

"Playing cards?"

"Sure. What else?"

He's quiet, like he doesn't believe me, and I don't blame him for that. I wouldn't believe a lying snake like me either. I wish more than ever that I could tell him the truth about where I was last night and what I was doing.

"You were gone a terribly long time."

I look out the window and see that the sun's already starting to rise, but I don't feel tired, just really, really heavy and sick. Finally, I grin the best I can, "Sorry about that, pal. I totally lost track of time; I'll make it up to you, 'kay."

Yeah right, Gojyo. There's no making up for this, not in a million years—it's way too sick and low to just make up for it one day. Besides, he's gonna' leave at the end of the week, and that's only three days away, which isn't a lot of time for me to think of some way to make it up to him.

My stomach twists in a knot when I think about him going away again, but maybe it's better if he does. Maybe it's just better if he's not around to see what a lowlife I've become.

That thought alone makes me want to scream.

"Anyway." I do the best I can to keep smiling, "I better land some sleep. 'Night, 'Kai." I start to head down the hallway.

"Wait a minute, Gojyo, please."

I stop where I am, holding my breath, seriously scared of whatever he's about to say, but I force myself to sound like everything's cool, "What's up, buddy?"

"Why don't you let me take a look at that abrasion?"

I can't imagine letting him fix up the scrape I got when I was raiding Sanzo's temple. "Naw, that's cool; it's not too bad."

"It's not very severe, but that doesn't mean you should neglect it, you know. It should at least be cleaned so it doesn't fester."

"I'll take care of it tomorrow—I'm wiped out."

"It's already tomorrow, Gojyo."

"Later then."

"You really don't want me to look at it?"

"Nah, just leave it alone."

He's quiet again, and I hope he's gonna' give it up.

I take a step forward.

"What about your bandages then? They really should be changed, don't you think?"

"Um. I dunno'…I think it's all healed up now."

"I doubt that." He's right next to me now, shoulder-to-shoulder with me.

I try not to lose it. I try not to think about the fact that he's going to leave again soon, or about how mad he's going to be when he finds out what I did. I try really hard not to think about how close I am to losing him all together.

"Please, Gojyo?" I feel his hand on my shoulder, "I'd feel much better if you'd just let me have a look."

"Oh, all right." I sigh exaggeratedly, "Man, you're worse than an old lady."

Hakkai laughs, "So you keep telling me. Here, come sit on the couch, won't you?"

I let him walk me over to the couch and sit down heavily, holding my pounding head as he goes to get the first aid kit out. "You'd think you'd start trying to act less like an old lady after hearing it so much."

"Yes, well one can't fight their nature, I suppose."

That's so fucking true. Just like how I can't fight being a lowlife, cheating rip-off artist.

I swallow hard and sit back, choke out a laugh, "Tell me about it."

He comes back, and I sit as still as I can while he redresses my old wounds and cleans up the cut on my forehead, just watching him, not even whining about how much it stings.

Hakkai smiles after a while, but I think it looks sad, "You're…not used to me being around anymore, are you?"

I'm really not. That's weird to think about, because it used to be so common, us fixing each other up. Sanzo would send us off to do something stupid and dangerous, and we'd get torn up by some maniac in the process, and sometimes we couldn't afford a doctor, or it wasn't worth it to go to one, or we were just too beat to walk there, so we'd wrap and stitch each other up, slap band-aids on anything we could, even set bones sometimes. It got unbelievably normal to have Hakkai putting me back together after a fight, so normal actually, that by the time we went on our journey to India, I almost didn't trust anybody else alive to do it right.

Of course, I've had Goku wrap this and that up when Hakkai couldn't. I think even Sanzo had to once or twice. But that really was weird, and I avoided that shit when I could.

I remember one of the first times Hakkai ever patched me up.

We came back from doing some damn thing for Sanzo, and I guess I was a little ragged out—he might have been too—I don't even remember what it was we were doing for Sanzo, just that it must have sucked because I was pretty banged up.

I remember arguing with Hakkai about it for almost an hour, because we didn't know each other that well, we'd only been living together for a few months, and I probably didn't want him to see me looking so pathetic. I was probably embarrassed as hell.

I did everything I could to convince him he didn't need to fix me up: I told him I could do it myself, or that it didn't need to be done at all, or that I'd go to a doctor later, and that he didn't know what he was doing, and that I didn't want some amateur, hack, wannabe nurse sticking his dirty fingers in my wounds, and that it was just his sick excuse to see me half-naked.

He won that argument though, probably because I was about to pass out from pain, and because he always wins every argument, eventually, if I don't just storm out of the room, so I wound up half-naked on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to pretend I was somewhere else completely as he disinfected my wounds and bandaged them.

"_There's no reason to be embarrassed, Gojyo. It was a difficult fight, after all."_

_ "I'm not embarrassed. It's just not your problem, you know?"_

_ "It will be my problem if you bleed all over the floor though. I know better than to think you'd go out of your way to clean that up." He laughed._

_ I glanced at him, then away again, "How the hell do I know you know what you're doing? You could just make it worse."_

_ "Ah, not impossible, I'm afraid. I've never taken so much as a single medical class, though I have done extensive reading on the subject. Hopefully, though, your anatomy is like everyone else's, and a basic knowledge of first aid will suffice."_

_ "You're so weird." I muttered._

_ "Mm. I know. Still…I owe it to you in a way, wouldn't you agree?"_

_ "No. Why?"_

_ "Well, just a few months ago I was lying, incapacitated, in your bed, and I remember distinctly who was changing my bandages a good percentage of the time."_

_ "Yeah…I guess… You don't really _owe_ me though."_

_ He just chuckled, "If you say so."_

_ I watched him a while, noticing how careful and thorough he was, wrapping every bandage and applying every band-aid like someone was paying him to, easing through every stitch and cleaning every little cut with undivided attention… It made me think of Jien, years and years ago, cleaning up and dressing every cut and scrape and bruise I'd gotten from Mom trashing the fuck out of me. I closed my eyes, and I could almost hear my brother telling me it was okay._

It _was_ okay when Jien said it was okay, if only because he was okay, and that made it seem like it was okay. Even though things were horrible and Mom was beating me up every day and telling me how much she hated me all the time, hearing him say it was okay always made me feel like maybe it could be okay, someday, if I just hung in there.

Hakkai made me feel like that too, just by giving a shit that I was hurt and going out of his way to make sure my injuries were taken care of right, even when it had nothing to do with him at all. He made me feel like I had a brother again. He made me feel like stuff would be okay.

Suddenly, I sit up and grab onto him, hooking my arm around his neck and pressing my face against his shoulder.

He freezes. "Gojyo? Are you all right?"

I wish I could tell him the truth: I wish I could tell him I'm not all right and that I haven't been all right for months and months now, and that things have gotten fucked up beyond repair, and that it's my fault, and that I keep making it worse. I wish I could tell him how afraid I am to lose him, and Goku and Sanzo too, and how scared I am that my life will always be like this, no matter how high he climbs, until he just gets so far ahead of me that he's gone completely. I wish I could tell him that everything is just all wrong, and that I don't know how to fix it. I really, really wish that he could tell me stuff's okay, and that I could believe it like I always did before.

There's no way I can do any of that though, so I have to settle for holding onto him while I can, because for all I know, tomorrow he'll find out what I did, and that'll be the end of everything between us. Then I won't have anything left but these memories: the first time he put me back together, and now, what'll probably be the last.

"Gojyo, what's the matter?"

"I hate it." I grumble automatically.

"Hate what?"

"I feel like you're really far away. I hate that."

Slowly, he puts his arm around me, "I'm right here. What are you talking about?"

"I don't know…" I husk. "Maybe I'm the one who's far away."

He grips my arm tightly, like he's going to ground me to reality, and says firmly, "You're right here too."

I shake my head, but I don't know how to explain how I feel. I don't know the words I need to describe how awful this is, being so far away from him when I know he's right next to me.

"Gojyo, it's all right. Everything's going to work out."

"How can you say that? You don't even know what's going on."

I feel him touch my hair. "It'll work out, whatever it is. You'll see."

I smirk a little bit to myself, sadly, because I was right: even he can't fix this now, not even if I asked him to, and it's just a matter of time before everything we've had in the last ten years is gone forever.

Gently, I push him off and stand up, turn to walk away. I messed up showing him that side of me—I didn't want him to see how fucked up I am right now—but it doesn't matter, just as long as I don't do it again. I have to get used to the idea that he's not on my side anymore, and that he's not always going to be around to help me figure shit out, whether I need him to be or not.

He gets up too, grabs my arm, a little frantically, I think, "Gojyo…"

Tiredly, I laugh and look back at him. "Hey, whatever happens…it doesn't really matter." I try to smile, but inside, I'm breaking into tiny, little pieces, "You're always gonna' be the damn best I ever had, Sunshine."

I pull away and leave him standing there, staring at me with wide, confused eyes, and I get the feeling I just scared the living shit out of him.

He doesn't come after me though, and as much as that hurts, I'm almost glad, because the sooner we let go of each other, the easier it'll be when we just can't be together anymore.

The easier it'll be, after I've completely torn us apart.


	9. Chapter 9

**I have to say, I really like Sanzo's parts in this fic, which is interesting, because normally I have a hard time getting into Sanzo's head.**

**Also, I hope you guys are tolerating my OCs okay, since I know OCs are a bit of a touchy thing in fanfic writing. I was pretty concerned about the reception of Goku having "a girlfriend", but it seemed like most of you took it okay.**

**Anyway, at this point, this fic is breaking my heart too, and I appreciate those of you who are taking the time to read each update and leave your reviews. With this story in particular, I'm grateful for your support.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

_I'm not scared now…_

**Sanzo**

"Are you sure?"

Kumo stands perfectly still, looking ashamed, but proud, and very angry, "Absolutely, Master Sanzo."

"_Completely_ sure?"

"Master Sanzo." He raises his eyes, looking bewildered, "Of course I'm sure. I saw with my own two eyes."

"You could be wrong though."

"I _saw_ that filthy hanyou in the-"

"Shut up." Mashing my cigarette out in the ashtray, I stand up from my chair. It's four o'clock in the morning, and I'm tired, and my temple just got robbed, and I'm _not_ in the mood for bullshit. "Maybe I missed something. Is there suddenly only _one_ hanyou out there in the world? I've seen _dozens_, and just because one broke into the treasury you think it _has_ to be him?"

Now Kumo looks offended. Good. He sniffs, "Master. Forgive me if I seem out of line, but it would be very difficult to _not_ recognize Sha Gojyo."

"What do Hotakeiku and Jubei say?"

He sighs, "As I told you, Master Sanzo, more than half a dozen of our sentries have testified to seeing him on temple grounds at the time of the robbery. Hotakeiku was there at the wall when he made his escape. Wouldn't you like to question them yourself?"

"In a while." I sit down and light another cigarette.

"I don't understand why you're so skeptical, Master. I'm certain of what I saw, and to be perfectly blunt, it doesn't come as a surprise to me. I always told you we couldn't trust that man, especially not when he's been allowed to have free range of the temple, roaming the grounds as he pleased with Goku-san."

"Are you saying this is my fault?" I growl, looking intensely at him.

"Nuh-no, Lord Sanzo!" Kumo lurches back a step, "Of course not! You're not responsible for that criminal's distinct lack of morals."

"Hmph. What about Hakkai?" I sit back in my chair, tiredly.

"Priest Sanzo?"

More annoyed than ever, I glare at him, "Gojyo and Hakkai don't make life-altering decisions without each other, whether they be good or bad decisions, so I'm asking if anyone saw him around."

"Not that I'm aware of, but there were a number of other men involved in the theft."

"Who were they?"

"I'm not sure. There were only four in the treasury, but I didn't recognize any of the others; I assume they're thugs that scoundrel hired."

Again, I feel my patience getting thin, and I've just about had it with this pointless conversation. "What makes you think _he_ hired _them_?"

"Well, I-"

"Couldn't they have hired _him_ instead? They would have needed him more than he needed them." I've known for years that if Gojyo wanted to steal anything from me he could do it easily; I just hadn't expected him to. "They could have _forced_ him to help for all we know."

Kumo has the audacity to laugh a little, "I highly doubt that, Master."

"Oh, _really_?"

"What sort of man would allow himself to be bought or forced to attack and rob his own allies?"

"What sort of man would go out of his way to _pay_ other men to _help_ him attack and rob his own allies?"

Suddenly, he raises his voice to a self-assured, judgmental tone I can't stand, "Sha Gojyo is a desperate, unenlightened heathen, just like Cho Hakkai, and I highly doubt his inhibitions when it comes to things like breaking and entering or theft."

"Kumo." I breathe out sharply, filling my room with smoke, "You're annoying me. Go away."

"I'm only telling you the truth as I see it, Master Sanzo."

"What do you know about the truth? You don't _know_ either of them."

"They're scum."

In a way, they are scum, and I've always known that, but I wouldn't think this of them, not even of Gojyo. It doesn't add up.

As for Hakkai, I know he's not a saint, but I'd be shocked to find out he was involved in the raid at all.

Of course, I'm shocked to hear Gojyo's had a hand in it.

"That's for me to judge." I growl.

"Of course, Master, but you've always appreciated my counsel in the past."

"I'm not asking for it now. I'm asking what you saw."

"I _saw_ Sha Gojyo in the temple treasury, and I _heard_ him discussing the operation with his accomplices. What further proof could you require, Master?"

"It would be nice to have some evidence."

"Hotakeiku saw him using that weapon of his… Even if there's more than one disgusting hanyou in the world, there is only one shakujou, am I correct?"

"If I hear you use that word one more time, I swear I'll put you in a detention cell, just because it annoys me." I snap. Still though, I can't argue with that. The shakujou is bonded to him for the rest of his life, so if it was here then I can't deny that Gojyo was here, even if I don't want to believe it.

Now the only question is: why? Why would he do this? He must know—even that idiot has to know—that this will be a huge problem for all four of us.

That's what makes me think someone might have forced him to help.

Not that it makes me feel any better thinking that. He's still a goddamn, traitorous asshole. But it's the only thing I can think of that makes any sense.

For months I've been hearing rumors about his criminal activity, but I told him not to let it bite me in the ass. Why would he do this? He's been acting strange for a long time—ever since shortly after Hakkai went away—but I didn't think it would come to this, even with those rumors going around.

It makes me think of an annoying, stupid conversation we had, months ago, just a month or two after Hakkai left. That idiot started showing up a lot more often, and he didn't say why, but I always got the sense that it was because he didn't know what else to do.

_He sat down at the table across from me and blew out a weighty breath of smoke._

_ "What do you want now?" I'd demanded, mildly._

_ "Nothin'."_

_ "I just saw you like yesterday, didn't I?"_

_ "Big deal. We saw each other every day when we were traveling."_

_ "You'd think you could give me a break now that we're home again."_

_ "Whatever. Goku's busy—I ain't wasting the long ass walk up here just to go back down again."_

_ "You're still here way too much for my tastes. Don't you have a life or something to get to?"_

_ Gojyo had been quiet a long time, with that irritating, far-off, little smile of his, then he'd scraped his fingers back through his hair and huffed, "I dunno', man. I just can't get my shit together."_

_ Even then, I'd thought it was a weird thing for him to say out loud, but it was even weirder for him to say it to _me, _and I'd stared at him a long time, trying to make sense of it, before he finally met my gaze and I was forced to answer._

_ "Hn. Well, no one expects you to, believe me."_

_ "Oh yeah? Why?"_

_ "Because you're a dumb ass."_

_ He'd turned and stared out the window for several minutes without answering, and I'd watched him from the corner of my eye, until, eventually, he'd muttered, "There's gotta' be more to it than that."_

_ As if what I'd said was some profound piece of wisdom and not just a blatant insult._

_ "There isn't."_

_ "The hell do _you_ know about it?"_

_ "Too much, unfortunately." I'd added, against my better judgment, "Nobody's going to put your life together _for_ you."_

_ "I wouldn't even want them to."_

That was the first time I noticed how strange he was acting, and then, a few months later, Goku started bitching about it too, and from there, it had just gotten worse. Lately he's been little more than a stranger.

But to pull something like this is beyond unbelievable. It's unreal to me.

It took me years to be able to fully trust the others, to believe that they weren't going to turn against me or leave when I needed them the most, and by the time I did trust them, it was because I'd more or less forced myself to. What could you expect though? Hakkai and Gojyo were both genuine criminals when I met them, and Goku couldn't always control himself—there were times when I'd thought I would have to be crazy to put my faith in any of them—and still…after ten years of knowing him, I would never think Gojyo could do something this low.

So I want to believe he has some kind of a reason, but I'm worried to find out that maybe he doesn't.

"Master Sanzo? What do you want to do about it?" Kumo asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

What should I do? What _can_ I do?

I'd like to go down there, right now, and kick his ass, but who knows if he'd even be there. He'd be an idiot to hang around if he has any idea that we know he was here.

Then again, Gojyo is the biggest idiot I know.

Kicking his ass might not even be enough.

I get up and go to my window to stare out at the last fleeting hour of night. What the hell is wrong with that kappa anyway? Why has he been acting like such an idiot? Why did he go up on the mountain alone and almost get killed? Why has he been broke and drunk and moody and dismal as fuck? Why is it that every time Goku comes home from going to see him he acts like he's really worried? It's not even like Goku to worry a lot.

It's not like me to worry either, but I have been. I haven't been able to help it, and that's the most annoying part of all. I've thought for months that all of this, whatever it is, seemed to be leading us along to something really, really unpleasant and irritating. Something I'll no doubt get sucked into.

Now here it is. Gojyo ripped off my temple, didn't even bother to hide his face or to try to pretend he wasn't here, and I can't imagine why. I can't imagine Hakkai knows, and I definitely haven't said anything about it to Goku yet, but when I do…

Doesn't he understand just how badly he fucked up?

Is this all some stupid, elaborate scheme to purposely destroy his own life? His life is a piece of shit, and it always has been, but would he suddenly want to forfeit it completely? I really thought that when he came back from the mission I sent him on. I really, _really_ thought that, especially since he was dumb enough to walk home injured, and since then, I haven't been able to shake that thought. I haven't been able to get over the idea that maybe Gojyo is intentionally trying to get killed, or pit himself against us, or just fall apart.

Even if it isn't intentional, this behavior pattern of his is definitely self-destructive.

The thought of that, and the questions it raises, the fact that I don't understand why, makes my stomach twist into knots until I can barely stand it.

That idiot has no right to act this way, no matter what he's facing. He has no right to drag Hakkai and Goku into this mess, and he definitely has no right to get _me_ involved when I don't want to be.

If he's tired of living, why doesn't he just get it over with and fucking die?

Who's supposed to fix this anyway? Does he think one of us will?

I don't have time to play therapist to some burn-out, has-been, know-nothing loser who just never grew up and is bummed out about it now. That's not my job, and I don't care enough anyway.

But if he's going to pull shit like this, how can I ignore it?

Is he acting out to get my attention? Some warped, pathetic cry for help?

_I'll help you all right, dumb-fuck. I'll help you right over the edge of a cliff._

I should kill him for this.

"Master? Don't you have a plan of retaliation?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. I thought I told you to get out of here, Kumo."

"Yes, but-"

"Out."

He looks furious about that, but he bows and retreats out of my room, shutting my door silently.

I stand by my window and watch the sunrise and think, _The least that idiot could do is tell _someone _what the problem is, even if it's_ me. _At least then we wouldn't be so shocked to see him acting like a complete, moronic dick._

This is serious bullshit.

It only seems like a couple minutes I've been standing there before I hear a knock on my door, but the sun is almost fully risen, so it's apparently been several hours.

Goku lets himself in, looking exhausted and distressed, "I followed 'em all over the woods, Sanzo, but they didn't leave much of a trail, an' they all split up—I didn't know which way ta' go. Eventually, the trail I was followin' led me to the town, but there're too many people down there, an' I lost it."

"How convenient." I growl. He still doesn't know. He has no idea that Gojyo snuck in here last night and stole from me. I don't really want to tell him.

"Anyway." He straddles a chair backwards, folding his arms over the top of it, "I don't get it. Who'd break in here? It's been a long time since somebody tried that."

I don't answer.

"Ya' think it's that group Gojyo busted up? A few coulda' gotten away."

"It's possible."

He waits a while before continuing, "Ya' gotta' know more than that, Sanzo." I've almost gotten used to him talking to me like that, like he actually knows what's going on. "You've had me patrolling every night for weeks now, like ya' knew this was comin'. Did'ja' think somebody was gonna' bust in?"

"Not necessarily."

I hadn't guessed, but…I'd been nervous. It could have been the men I saw skulking around in the woods one night. Maybe it was just because we'd gone so long without anything happening, or maybe it was because of the rumors, and because Gojyo acted so weird when he came back.

For the first few months after Hakkai was gone, Gojyo came up here all the time and bugged the hell out of me, talked to me, told me all kinds of shit that was on his mind—none of which was intelligent or useful—and hung around, sometimes from dawn til dusk, and I never figured out why. I'd let it go, because I understood, in part at least, that his life had changed a lot and that maybe he didn't know what to do, and that it wasn't all his fault. Then, just when I was starting to get really irritated with it, he'd just stopped.

No warning. No heads up. He just didn't come anymore. Weeks went by and we didn't see him. Goku went to visit him eventually, but when he came back, he was concerned, and he couldn't tell me why, other than to say 'Gojyo smells funny these days', which made about as much sense to me as the chattering monkeys I hear outside in the trees right now. Months went by, and I didn't see any sign of that idiotic kappa. I started to let it go, told myself it wasn't my concern.

As soon as I did that, he showed up, but there was a clear difference in his behavior. There was a strange vibe to him I couldn't put my finger on, and a distant look in his eye. He'd walked around the temple with me, barely saying anything at all, and no matter how many times I asked him, 'Gojyo, what the hell _do_ you want?' he'd never really answered.

There was something desperate in that behavior, even on a subtle level

With the rumors about him getting involved with Gin Loki floating around not long after that, I'd be crazy not to let it all bother me.

I should have known then that he was up to something.

I grit my teeth, angrily. I should have known he'd try something like this; he'd been planning this for months, that asshole.

"I thought of somethin' else." Goku announces.

"What's that?"

"Whoever the guys are that did this, they musta' known their way around the inside of the temple."

"Why do you think that?"

"'Cause of the way they got in: they used all kindsa' entrances that not just everybody knows about, right? Like the side gate an' the tunnel over the stream. An' that window that don't latch? How many people outside this place know about that?"

"Very few." I answer quietly.

"Right? An' we don't even know how they got over the outer wall, right? I only know one place people can get over the outer wall."

"That tree you and Gojyo were always climbing." I say, just as coldly as I can.

"Exactly. An' not just ev'rybody knows about that. Not just ev'rybody's even _athletic _enough ta' use it."

I listen to him, wondering if he might just piece it together by himself, but I doubt it. He'll never jump to that conclusion, because he wouldn't even want to think Gojyo could have been involved in this.

"Have we had any visitors in the last few months?"

I shake my head. "No one suspicious."

"Then, ya' think maybe one of the monks here hired some guys ta' come in an-"

"Why would they do that? What makes you think that if one of them wanted to take something out of the temple, they wouldn't just do it themselves? Whoever came in here last night used way too many men—they drew attention to themselves—it was a sloppy, idiotic operation. Any monk who's spent time here would know better than to bring ten men to raid this place."

That's another thing that doesn't make sense to me. Such a loud operation…such a _careless_ job…like they _wanted _to get caught. Gojyo wouldn't want to get caught, but would the people with him have some reason to? It's even possible that they might have wanted _him_ to get caught. To do something like that though, went beyond just setting him up to be their fall-guy, because this had the potential to completely wreck Gojyo's life.

I linger on that thought a moment, and the more I consider it, the more sinister it seems.

Gojyo would have to be beyond fucked up to want to wreck the relationship he has with the three of us, so much so that it seems ridiculous to entertain that notion.

_Who would _want_ to ruin his life though, and why?_

Goku's voice plows into my thoughts "…who dya' think did this?"

"I don't know, Goku."

"Dya' want me ta' keep lookin' around the woods for 'em? In case they come back?"

"They'd have to be _incredibly_ stupid to come back."

Not out of the question, but I'm pretty sure that moron won't come back. If he's even a little bit intelligent, he'll get out of town and never look back.

He won't do that though. He won't abandon Hakkai and Goku. He cares too much about them.

_All the more reason he would never do this._

I'm sure that if I go down there today, he'll be there, and he'll make up some retarded excuse and lie to me and give me some half-assed alibi, and no matter how many times I tell him I know what he did, he'll never own up to it like an honorable person.

That doesn't mean I shouldn't kick his ass for this though, especially not since I have every right to do that.

_No I don't._ I tell myself suddenly. _It might feel like I do, but I know that I don't. Even though he broke into my temple and made off with valuables that have been entrusted to me, it's not my place to go down there and kick his ass. I'm not in any position to do that._

Why? Because…

_Because I'm worried about that stupid asshole and whatever dipshit reason he has for doing this._

I wish I could say I couldn't care less, like I used to, but whatever's going on, whether it's self-destruction or someone else setting him up, I can't ignore it, and I can't kick his ass. I have to bide my time, and see what happens. He's not going to get away with it, I know that much: his conscience will eat at him until he can't take it anymore, and then he'll probably confess, either to Hakkai or Goku, or maybe he'll come up here and tell me to my face what he did.

Until then, I can't do anything, because I know that kappa's in a dark place now, and I still have some loyalty, even if he doesn't.

_If I went down there to kill him now, he'd probably just let me._

He'd give me that stupid, pathetic Gojyo look of his and just stand there while I shot him in the head.

My only hope now is that I was right to send for Hakkai, and that he can fix whatever the problem is.

"Maybe the guys can get the stuff back." Goku says, like it's the most brilliant idea he's ever had.

"Hn. I doubt that, Goku."

"Why?"

"Because they don't do that for me anymore."

"I think they would, if ya' asked 'em."

"I don't."

He's quiet again.

Dammit, this is all my fault anyway. I knew this would happen. I've known for months that Gojyo's up to his eyes in criminal activity, stealing and running drugs and cheating people in the gang lord's name. Some of the rumors I've heard have disgusted me almost to the point of physical nausea, and I always knew it was just a matter of time before he pulled something this big and this serious, even if it wasn't here.

But I was an idiot, and I never said anything to him about it, even when I _knew_ full well what he was up to. I told myself it wasn't my business, and I looked the other way, even if I did amp up security around here a little.

That was a mistake. I should have said something to him. At least something like 'I know what you're doing, and you'd better knock it off before I kill you'. Maybe it would have been enough to jolt him out of whatever dumb-fuck reverie he's in.

_He's acting like a teenager again._ That was the thought I'd had the first time I ever heard about the shit he's been pulling, and from that moment on, I hadn't known what to do about it, but now I wish I'd done _something._ Anything would have been better than ignoring it.

_But Gojyo isn't my responsibility._

Some people might think that's a cold way to regard your friends, but it's the truth. No one's responsible for what Gojyo does, and I shouldn't have to feel obligated to step in and correct him and put him on the right path.

_And that's why he ripped me off. Because I was stupid, and I kept trusting him, and I looked the other way on all the shit he's been up to._

"One thing is certain." I say darkly, starting a cigarette. "If he comes back here, for any reason, I'll kill him. I'll put a bullet right between his eyes, no matter what it is he wants."

"Who?" Goku asks.

"That fucking thief."

* * *

**Hakkai**

I'm beside myself.

Since last night—or early this morning to be precise—I've been utterly bewildered and completely beside myself, distraught and distressed and anxious. He's barely spoken to me all day. After he came home this morning, and we had that brief conversation, he went to bed, but he didn't sleep very long before he was up again, looking exhausted and even more anxious than I feel, so pale and on edge and shaky, I could think of no explanation except that he was either extremely ill, or he actually _was_ going through heroin withdrawals, but he'd objected to both theories vehemently. Then he barely said a word to me, even though I made him lunch and sat with him and tried to talk to him. I tried to ask him about last night and about the things he said, because those things he said scare me.

He feels far away. I feel far away. Neither of us have any reason to, but we do, and I'm afraid that it's because we've grown apart in my absence, because we haven't spoken at all, not even through written word, in the last year. _I've_ written, but he's never answered, so it's been something like speaking to a wall: highly unrewarding and hopeless. It's left our circumstances bleak.

'_Whatever happens…you're still the damn best I ever had…'_

What does that mean? I couldn't even question it at the time, because I could barely get my mind around it. What does it mean? It sounds an awful lot like something you'd say to someone if you were intending to exit their life soon. No. It sounds like something you'd say to someone when you expect _them_ to leave _you_. But why would he expect that of me? I've always told him I never would. Just a few nights ago, when he got drunk at the bar, I told him I wouldn't leave him for an unfounded reason, and I still have no intention of doing so. Of course, I mean to go back to school soon, but that doesn't mean this is over. That doesn't mean I'll never see him again.

Now he's hardly speaking to me, and I can't understand why. I'm so lost in it all and so wounded by it, I can't stay home and try to deal with it.

I leave the house in the afternoon and begin to walk into town, just to get away. Just to clear my head. I hope against all hope that when I return, he'll be more normal, that perhaps he'll be more willing to speak to me. Perhaps I'll stumble across an answer somewhere as I drift through the thoughts in my own mind.

_I hate feeling like you're far away…_

Even when I'm standing next to him, he doesn't seem to be there, and that feeling grows with every passing day.

He's drawing away from me; that's something he's never done before, but I recognize it for what it is, because I know him well enough, and I also know that there must be a reason. Either something snapped inside his brain that made him feel as if he should, or else something happened that's forcing him to withdraw. Could it all have to do with the heroin?

His behavior is strange enough to hint at drug use, but I'm beginning to doubt that that's the heart of the problem, and that means there's something else. Whatever it is, if he's purposely going to shut me out that must mean something is very, very wrong in his life. It must extend past insecurity and feelings of inadequacy and the identity crisis he appears to be going through. It's as Sanzo suggested: Gojyo either has done, is doing, or is intending to do something that is detrimental to himself and therefore to the rest of us, and it could be the heroin, or it could be something else. How am I to know if he won't tell me?

When I thought it was the drugs, I had a perfect plan for dealing with that—an acceptable plan, in any case—but that plan fell through in the face of his stubbornness and in the events that followed. He so adamantly insisted that my accusations were incorrect that he managed to convince me of that, even if it was only a little, and when phase one of the plan—sitting him down and coaxing him into a confession—failed so utterly, it seemed impossible to move on to any secondary phase. Perhaps that was my fault all along; perhaps I shouldn't have yelled at him when I found the heroin. It could be that if I'd been more understanding and supportive about it, he might have told me the truth. Instead, that conversation hadn't worked out the way I'd wanted it to, even remotely, and it left me waiting for something to happen; something being, that confession I so desperately need to hear. But there was no confession at any point, only that horrendous scene with Goku and the man he murdered on the way home, the argument on our front steps, and his disappearance into the night.

I searched all over for him that night. I went through the woods and all around town, asking after him, never finding him, looking for hours, expecting him to turn up at any given moment, and when he never did, I was left no choice but to go home and sit up for hours and hours, waiting for him to come back, worrying myself sick.

He didn't come home drunk like I expected, so he must not have been at the bar, as he claimed to be. Not to mention, I'd gone into every bar in town looking for him, not finding so much as a trace of him or a witness to his whereabouts.

Also, he'd seemed lucid and clear of mind—not high or anything like that—but he'd acted strangely.

Now I find myself frustrated, because the only thing I want is to help him, and he won't let me. He keeps us apart by lying and refusing to explain himself.

How long can I endure?

Could it be that this rift has come about by my own construction, because I went away?

Even when I was in the act of leaving, I had known the possibilities, and that my going could be the end of our friendship, but I had told myself it wouldn't. I had told myself that we were strong enough.

On that morning, I had looked at the man who was closer to me than any blood-sibling could have ever been, and I had confronted in my mind the fact that I was about to drive away from him, and that even if we visited each other and wrote each other and called one another and stayed in touch in all the modern ways that friends do, it didn't matter, because our days of living side-by-side, through every moment of laughter, anger, pain or fear, were over, perhaps forever. In that moment, I'd been so overwhelmed by that terrible realization that it had taken all my will to not burst into tears.

Today I can't so much as promise that things will be that way ever again, even though, each and every day, I hope that they can be, someday, somehow. That there could be some arrangement, whether that means we live across the street from each other, or if my wife and I have to buy a house with a basement in it for him to live in, it hardly matters. Living so far away from him is intolerable and unacceptable and horrible, especially now that I've come back and seen firsthand the destruction our separation has caused.

To others, that might seem silly, I suppose. Even Sanzo and Goku might find it absurd, if I told them that's how I feel. It doesn't matter though, because, like everything else in my relationship with Gojyo, it's not important if other people understand it, all that is important is that the two of us understand it.

One thing is certain: this arrangement is not working. Somehow, in this past year, we've entirely lost touch with one another. I sent him letter after letter, never receiving any sort of reply, though I wasn't shocked by that. I'd called his house, not getting an answer even one time. I'd waited for him to contact me. I'd waited for him to visit me. He'd never come, and he'd never said a word to me. In one whole year, not one word from Gojyo. I would have thought he was dead, except that, surely, Sanzo would have told me so.

In that case, it's not entirely my fault, because I did everything I could to keep in touch with him, and he made no effort to return the gesture.

That knowledge will make me angry, if I dwell on it, so I've been trying not to, because fighting with him hasn't gotten me anywhere so far. No surprise there. Fighting with Gojyo never gets us anywhere, but reasoning with him is impossible if he won't speak to me, and just letting it go is out of the question.

It's a cold, rainy day, and the driving rain doesn't improve my outlook at all, so I step into a coffee shop on the outskirts of town. It's not a very nice place, compared to the coffee houses I generally patronize. It's small and grungy and it caters to some of the stranger people in town, but the coffee is still reasonably priced and of acceptable quality, and I just need to get out of the rain so I can think.

What if I go home and beg him to speak to me? If I promise myself I'm not going to fight with him, and I'm frank with my feelings, and I can make him understand how upsetting all this is, won't he explain to me what's wrong? He must. If he cares about our friendship even half as much as I do, he must reciprocate. I can't fix this rift by myself, after all—it's a repair we have to make together.

I stare down into my steaming, creamy coffee and brood over the possibilities.

I'm not there very long before someone comes in and sits down at my table without even asking permission.

I look up, half-expecting to find that it's Gojyo, here to make things right of his own accord.

Instead, it's Bao-zhi, looking wet and estranged, but also calm and unruffled, clutching a steel flask in one hand and a cigar between his teeth. He surveys the room, not looking at me immediately.

"Good afternoon." I greet quietly, but I think it's odd. This is the second time he's followed me into an establishment, which makes me think he must have something specific he'd like to say to me.

"Good afternoon." He answers, taking a swig from his flask. "You're alone today."

"Yes, it seems that I am. As are you." Bao-zhi has always been a loner, so I don't expect to see him surrounded by friends.

He nods, "I always seem to be these days."

Loner or not, I remember that when we returned from India, he'd already been made into something of an outcast by this society, but I don't know if that's because he went berserk and then had the audacity to return, or because he never went berserk and lived outside of town for all those years that the minus wave was in effect. Either way, it's always seemed strange to me that he would come back here and subject himself to isolation. He's a man without ties, and he could go to any town that suits him at any time he feels like it.

"Why?" I ask softly.

Bao shrugs, "Our world may be getting better, but it's still messed up."

"No, but why do you stay here in a town that clearly doesn't accept you anymore?"

He looks at me with his one good eye. "Most of the youkai in this town went berserk—you and Gojyo are probably the exceptions."

Again, it occurs to me that he seems to know already that Gojyo is partially youkai, when I had always assumed that most people in town didn't realize that. I wonder if Gojyo told him, but that seems unlikely, because Gojyo has never, in all the time I've known him, admitted that out loud to anyone. Not even me.

"The only youkai who had the guts to come back to this town after being berserk were myself and Gin Loki."

"Yes, I remember the day Loki returned and the commotion that caused here."

"Loki has always been a stain on this community." Bao says gruffly.

"But you haven't been. You've always kept to yourself and aired on the side of caution."

"Still, I am a youkai. And a dangerous one." He looks at me seriously. "The other youkai in town have gravitated to the southern end, and they live segregated there. Most of them don't have the courage yet to try to re-enter society, even though the humans in town have begun to accept that they're there. Someday, we'll all live together again, but until then, we're separated.

"I'm not about to go and join some low-brow gang, Hakkai. Not over this. I've already done too much of that in my life."

"I've heard the rumors."

"They're true. Once, I was a hit man for a crime syndicate in a large city, far away from here. Very, very far away." He hits his flask again. "I gave that life up, and I'd rather be an outcast than go back to it. Most youkai don't feel that way. Most youkai found out that it's the only thing they can do now. I can't imagine how long it'll be before society repairs itself."

"Generations, I suspect." We always knew it would be that way. We always knew that reversing the minus wave wouldn't necessarily solve all the problems in Shangri-La. It will take a long time for everyone to heal from the collateral damage.

"I resigned to a life of solitude long ago." He tells me, weightily. "And I've known some good years where that solitude was not absolute. But I've come to terms already with the fact that I'll likely spend the rest of my life in isolation."

I give him a strange look, and even though I'm wondering why it is we're discussing this, I get the sense he's heading toward something important. "Still, if that's true, I can't help but wonder why you came back to this town. There are other towns where you might be accepted better, where people don't know you and don't remember the day you lost your mind. I mean…not to be rude."

"You're never rude, Cho Hakkai."

"Gin Loki came back to this town because he's insane and it doesn't seem unreasonable to him to be in this town where he took innocent lives and caused destruction. He was doing such things before the calamity. As for you, you're not insane, and whether you took lives or not during that time, I'd rather not know, but regardless, you came back here for some reason."

He's looking out into the distance with a strange look in his eyes and an odd, little smile on his lips, "Hakkai…did I ever tell you that I was a family man once?"

"Pardon? No. I don't believe so."

"Hardly anyone knows that. They know I was a criminal once—some know I was a hit man—some even know which gang I was associated with, but very few people in this town know that I had a wife and a family when I was younger."

"Yes…I see… What became of them?"

"I left them behind; in those days, my life was dangerous. I put them all at risk too many times. When I wanted out of the syndicate, it was the only thing I could think of. It was the only way I knew of. To protect them."

"That's terrible. I'm sorry. I know…I know all too well, the horrible things one might do in order to protect a loved one."

"I thought maybe you did. But I left them without a word. To this day, my wife and my children have no idea where I am. They probably think I'm dead. It's been more than twenty years since I've seen them."

I fall into polite, commiserating silence.

"You see." He goes on slowly. "I have a reason for being in this town. Coming back was a hard decision to make—I knew what it would be like—but I had to do it."

"Then it must be a good reason."

"It is. To me at least."

Patiently, I wait.

He takes his time and draws on his cigar. "What I'm about to tell you…you can't repeat it to that obnoxious partner in crime you got."

"Gojyo?"

"That brat. It's none of his business. And anyway, he wouldn't understand."

"I'm not sure _I_ understand. What are you talking about?"

"You will understand. You're so much smarter than that brat." He smiles again, gentler this time, laughs a little.

"I'm afraid I'm not-"

"My sons…they were hanyou."

I'm not expecting that, and I even drop the spoon I've been idly stirring my coffee with. "Excuse me?"

"_Are_ hanyou, wherever they are. If they're alive."

"Then you've known all along…"

"My wife was a human, but I loved her, deep as any man can love. Even a hit-man. Our sons were born as Children of Taboo, but I loved them too. More than anything. I did all I could to give them a good life: I fought and killed for them. I stained my hands with blood I can't wash off, all for their sake."

I glance down at my own hands, and even after all these years, I remember how soiled they have been, and that they're even worse now.

"Ranka and I knew it would be hard for all of us having hybrid children, but we were brave, and we were young, and we wanted to try anyway. We wanted to give them a good life, with a loving family and a safe home. We did everything in our power to shelter them from prejudice and senseless hatred. No matter what a sinful man I am, they were always good boys.

"Even so, I had to leave them. It was my only option, and it hurt to do it. I pray every day that they've done all right without me. They were teenagers when I went away, almost men, but…they were still children. I don't dare hope they didn't face their share of trials after I was gone."

"I can only imagine." I murmur, and I can't help but judge him for leaving his children—his taboo children—to fend for themselves, because it couldn't be closer to home, not as an orphan with a fatherless hanyou for a best friend.

He glances at me, as if he can sense what I'm thinking, and I wouldn't be surprised if he could indeed get a glimpse of those thoughts. His one, pale eye is sad and remorseful.

"When I came into this town, I was only passing through, only hiding. I stayed longer than I meant to, but I intended to leave, eventually.

"When I met Gojyo that changed. The two of you are younger than my sons, but when I left them, my oldest, Sanga, was seventeen, and that's how old Gojyo was when I met him. I can't…say why, exactly. I've never known _why_. But Gojyo always reminded me of Sanga, somehow. They're nothing alike, really. Sanga was gentle and timid and peaceful, like his mother. Gojyo almost stabbed me when I met him: he's fierce and strong and full of passion. Maybe they looked a little alike to me. Or maybe it was just that I couldn't get it out of my head that somewhere Sanga was still seventeen, even though ten years had passed since I'd left him. It doesn't matter. I saw my son in that brat.

"That's not all though. I remembered so distinctly the trials my sons had to face as hanyou children. I remembered the pain and the torment they endured, even with two loving, protective parents to shield them from the world. I knew when I met him that Gojyo had never had any of that, that every trial that could befall him went unrepelled. It struck me that it could have easily been that way for my sons, especially after I left them. Little Saro was only thirteen when I went. What Gojyo went through between the ages of twelve and seventeen…that could have been the life of my sons.

"It may have been selfish, or it I may have acted out of guilt, but I told myself I would look after him the best I could, if only from a distance. I've never stepped into his life and tried to mentor or parent him: he wouldn't have allowed that. But I watched him and I befriended him. I let him be Sanga, somehow, in my heart. At times, I almost went back to my sons over him, and then I never could. Sanga and Saro, wherever they are, have their mother, and what's more, they have each other. In a way, Gojyo seemed to need me more."

He's silent, and that seems to be the end of his story. I watch him in confusion and amazement. "I…never had any idea…"

"No."

"And he doesn't either?"

"I never told him. It would make things different. I thought that if he knew I befriended him strictly because he _is_ a hanyou, it might be just as bad as knowing that some people want nothing to do with him for the same reason. It is an act of racism, in a way, to have the audacity to think that punk could need my help or my protection, just because he's a Child of Taboo."

I gaze down into my coffee again.

He goes on, softer than ever, "As for you…I'll never know why the two of you are the way you are. For years, I watched you, and I expected at every twist and turn for you to betray him. I expected to learn you'd been using him. He lets people use him, sometimes, because it's been his only way to get anything that even looks like friendship.

"But you never did. We all watched Banri treat him like shit and act like an asshole. We all hated Banri for it."

I wonder who 'we all' were. I can't help but suspect Ton could be included in that.

"You're not that way though. Eventually I saw that you genuinely give a damn, and that gave me hope somehow too. Hope that, maybe, my sons could meet people in the world who are like you."

"I'm sure they have by now. I'm sure they're happily married even."

"I'll never know." He hesitates a long moment before looking me in the eyes again, "Gojyo genuinely gives a damn for you too, Hakkai."

"I know."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I don't think you know how deep it runs, even if you think you do. I don't think you realize how much he respects and looks up to you. I don't think you know how much he loves you."

"But you do?" I ask skeptically, not liking to hear someone else presume to understand my relationship with my best friend better than I do.

"All I'm trying to say is, I knew that kid before he met you. I saw how knowing you changed his outlook on everything around him. I don't think you know…I think you'd be surprised at how cynical and _angry_ Gojyo was when he finally made it to this town. Seventeen. Alone. Destitute. Nothing but whores and that asshole Banri for company. He convinced himself no one would ever truly care."

My heart hurts just hearing that, even when it's long-since over. I wish I were with him now. I wish I hadn't moved away and left him here, because, perhaps it is that bitterness and that anger that's emerging in him now. Perhaps it's only been dormant because I was nearby, and without me, there's been nothing to check it.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It's important." He puffs his cigarette a while. "It's something I can't fix, because Gojyo doesn't know about Sanga and Saro. He doesn't know I'm only in this town, that I only came back, because of him. He probably never can add two and two together. But he _knows_ why you're here."

I'm not entirely sure that's true these days.

"I told you he stopped playing, stopped chasing skirt, stopped living his life, really. It happened suddenly, about four months after you were gone, and I can't explain why. But now I want to tell you something else. I want to tell you what he's been doing instead."

Startled, I whip around to look at him. "You… Wait. Heroin?"

Bao gives me a funny look. "Drugs? Punk's not on drugs, Hakkai."

"Then he's selling them."

"Not on his own. Not for himself."

"I don't understand."

"Gin Loki." He says gravely. "I don't know how it started or why—they've hated each other since the day Gojyo came to this town—but somehow they've partnered up."

"That can't be true." I stammer, and my mouth is dry. I never would have guessed.

"It is true. The whole town knows it, so ask anyone you like. Gojyo gave up gambling and chasing women to start robbing and trafficking for Loki. If you ask him, he'll tell you it's not true. Even if he admits to working with Loki, he'll tell you he's not really a part of the gang, that he just does stuff for Loki sometimes. That's a lie. He is in deep with that gang. Drugs. Violence. Theft. I don't even want to know what else—Loki pays him to do it."

Outraged, I stand up, "Gojyo isn't… He _can't_ be. He's…"

Sanzo said we're too late to try to wear white…I always knew what that meant, pertaining to my own life, but even in ten years, I've never uncovered everything it might mean pertaining to Gojyo's.

"You'd be cheating yourself out of an opportunity to help him if you denied that Gojyo has a tendency to gravitate to a criminal life. He was in plenty of gangs when he was a teenager, always saying he wasn't really part of it. He and Banri were more or less their own gang, running all over this town, taking what they wanted, beating the shit out of people who got in their way. Cheating. Vandalizing. The two of you were never very violent, but a lot of us in this town thought you were a bit of a two-man gang also."

"He's almost thirty years old." I say angrily. "What would compel him to do something so incredibly stupid?"

He shrugs and turns to his flask, "I don't have the answer to why, Hakkai, I just know it can't be denied that that is what's going on."

Finally, I'm out of protests, and I stare at him helplessly.

"We've all looked the other way, for the most part, and you could too."

"Why though? Why in the world would you look the other way?" I shout suddenly. "You just sat here and told me how you've always tried to look after him and how he reminds you of your sons, so you want to try to help him!"

"That's what I'm doing now. Gojyo would never listen to me, or Ton, or anybody else around here. He only listens to you. Part of that respect-love thing I mentioned earlier."

Then is this what Sanzo was referring to as well? Not drugs but criminal activity? After all, if everyone in town knows, it could have gotten around to the temple. That would be why he called for me.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask miserably. "He isn't even communicating with me these days!"

"I don't know, Hakkai. I wish I did. If you look the other way, I know Gojyo will come to his senses, eventually, and get himself out. That's not the problem. The problem is, Loki will ice him, eventually."

"Ice him? You mean kill him? But why?"

"Because, as you know, Loki hates Gojyo. Gojyo hates Loki. It's incredible they haven't iced each other yet. Gojyo's not the kinda' guy to go icing people out of the blue. Loki _is._ That's what he does with the people he hates."

I know that's true. I've met Loki on several occasions, and I know what a brutal, disgusting man he is, just from speaking with him for a few short moments.

"If Gojyo stays in this town, I guarantee Loki will kill him, even if it's years down the road. He will use him and throw him away. I know that, because that's the world I escaped from."

"Gojyo's too strong to get killed." I argue.

"Gojyo's strong, but he's not himself lately. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's not thinking clearly, and he's being reckless. You can't afford to be reckless when you're fucking around with a man like Gin Loki."

I've heard enough.

I hurry back home, walking briskly through the town, thinking anxiously about the things I just learned.

I must admit, I wouldn't have guessed at that, because I know Gojyo and Loki dislike each other, and all the time we lived here, they always took measures to avoid each other. I don't know why Gojyo would suddenly change his mind and start working for the man, but I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

He's a grown man, and he can look after himself, but this is not something he should be doing. This does not constitute a healthy, normal, adult life by any means, and frankly, he was better off gambling and chasing women, even if it wasn't a perfect pattern of behavior; I much preferred that, and I don't know why he'd abandon something so tried and true just to take up a criminal lifestyle.

In my mind, this is worse than the heroin. Anything could go wrong—it's not just a matter of putting him in rehab—he could get arrested or killed. He could lose everything. He could damage his chances at having a normal, wholesome life, forever.

Whatever's going on, I'm not going to stand for it. I intend to get to the bottom of it all, and I'm angry with myself for waiting so long to even attempt to find answers. Here I've been waiting for him to come to me and tell me what's wrong of his own free will, and I should have known better than to do that, because Gojyo isn't that way at all.

Sanzo and Bao-zhi are right in believing I'll do whatever's necessary to rectify this situation, because I certainly will.

By the time I reach home, the rain is coming down harder than ever, and I shove my freezing hands into my pockets to keep them warm. I'm practically running, formulating in my mind what I should do when I arrive and what I should say. Whatever happens, I have to believe there's a way to fix this, and I can't give up hope, no matter what Gojyo says and does when I confront him.

When I get there, I'm so distraught, I spring up the front steps and throw the door open with a clatter.

Gojyo's lying on the couch, face down, with his hands over his head in a very uncharacteristic manner, and he bolts upright when I come in, eyes wide, mouth open in the midst of a scream, as if I frightened him, and then he sits there a moment, staring at me, seems to regain his composure, and his shoulders slump. "Oh." His breath sounds shaky. "Hey man." Then he coughs.

I study him, then shut the door, more softly than I opened it, and the house looks dark to me. It's still bare and impersonal, and today it feels more like an asylum than ever.

He watches me come across the room, "Man, you woke me up. What're you running through the door like a maniac for anyway? You didn't miss me that much did you?" He glances away from me to look at the clock, and I can tell he's unnerved by my silence and my caustic expression. "You were only gone like what, an hour?"

I watch him without a word as he lights a cigarette and sits back in the couch.

"So what's up?"

"I need to speak with you. Immediately."

"'Kay. What about?" His tone is completely casual, but I can tell that he's nervous now.

Carefully, I pick my way across the room, "I've put this conversation off a long while now, perhaps too long, but I can't put it off any longer, and I need you to be completely honest with me."

Gojyo waits.

I take a deep breath, knowing how badly this could go for us, but I am going to give him one chance—just one—to tell me the truth and to allow him the opportunity he needs to be honest with me about what's been going on.

The tension in the air is thick enough to cut through with a knife, and the way Gojyo's looking at me, I can't help but think he's expecting me to come right out and accuse him of something.

"Gojyo, are you all right?"

He looks surprised, and then he relaxes a little, "Yeah, I'm cool. Why?"

"And is that really the truth?"

"Um. Yeah."

"Because I'm not entirely sure I believe you."

Gojyo puffs his cigarette slowly, not answering.

I proceed gently, "Ever since you answered your door the other morning, I've been able to see that something's wrong, and the longer I'm here, the clearer it becomes to me that you're unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy." He objects at once.

"You're frustrated, and you're angry, and you're in distress, and every day I can see all the more clearly that you're not happy, and I just want to know if you're really okay."

He nods, coughing slightly.

So far he's not accepting the opportunity I've given him to be truthful, so I may have to press him. "You do realize that if there's anything you want to tell me—anything at all—I'm not going to judge you or look down on you or scold you. All I want is to help you."

There's such a long, uncertain pause after that, I actually think he might confess something to me, even if it's not exactly what Bao-zhi told me. At last, he shrugs, "Don't worry. Everything's okay."

I sigh, "Including your financial situation?"

"What?"

"I don't understand how you're making money."

"Same way I always have."

"Yes, but I've been told that you don't play cards anymore, and that you don't chase women."

"Who the hell told you that?"

"It hardly matters."

"I think it matters; who the hell's talking about me behind my back?"

"I'm concerned so I've been questioning various people on your condition."

"Why? Can't you just believe I'm fine when I say I'm fine?"

He breaks off to cough, and I'm forced to wait as patiently as I can.

"I'm fine, Hakkai." He says when it's over. "I don't even know what you have to be worried about."

"Look around you." I suggest. "You're broke and constantly drunk, your place is a disaster area, you keep getting into fights and disappearing, refusing to tell me where you've been, and that heroin."

He's still not giving any sign that the things I'm saying are hitting home.

At last, I feel out of breath, nearly panting as I say, "Tell me… Tell me why you had that heroin, Gojyo."

"What are you talking about? I already-"

"Please. And don't lie to me. Tell me why you had it. While you're at it, tell me where you went the night I found it, and last night."

"I already told you, Hakkai."  
"I want the truth. I want the truth about why you've been acting this way, and about why you're out of money. Bao-zhi told me you don't play cards anymore. He said you don't chase women."

"The fuck does Bao know? Why would _I_ stop playing cards and chasing women?"

"I don't know. I'm sure there are multiple reasons for someone your age to stop gambling and mindlessly chasing women. I want to know _your_ reason. I want to know how you've been making money instead, since Sanzo says you haven't done anything for him. I want to know what it is you've been doing, where you've been going, and what that bag of heroin has to do with it, and I want to know right now."

His eyes are getting slightly wide now, "Where's all this coming from, dude?"

"I think I have a right to know is all."

"Why? What do you think you're going to find out?"

"I'm not sure." I admit, "I'm afraid of what you might tell me."

"So don't even ask."

"I don't have a choice, I think."

"Hakkai." He sighs and finally gets up, walks into the kitchen to get a beer, "Look, I don't know what you _think _is going on, but it doesn't make sense for you to worry about it, okay? You don't need to worry about _me."_

He's very good at acting natural, but I can read him as easily as I can read the open magazine on the table, and I note the slightest instance of hesitation and the almost imperceptible way he shifts his weight. "I mean it, Hakkai. Everything's cool."

"I don't think so. I don't think hiding heroin in your room, whether you intended to take it or not, is cool."

"I dunno' how to get you to listen to me, dude, but I was just holding that shit for someone else, just for a little while."

"And then a man attacked you in the street over it a day later."

"_Because_ I was supposed to take it back to him and you flushed it down the toilet. This all woulda' worked out perfectly if you didn't do that."

"Well I _did_, and I did it out of my concern for you, so I'm not sorry for it." I give him a measuring look, "Is Merchant Rashii going to come after you?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe not. I have to wait and find out."

That flippancy is very close to genuine, but I can tell it's being feigned.

"Then." I remove my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose, "Explain something to me. Merchant Rashii is the one who gave you those drugs to hold for him. It must be, because he's the man you were meant to deliver them to, correct?"

"Sure. And Rashii's not as tough as you think, alright? There're a lot of lines that dick'll never cross; he's an aristocrat, not a gangster."

"Perhaps. However, something that still confuses me is the fact that he did that in the first place. To begin with, how did you come to be involved with Rashii? And why would a man who is so powerful and so esteemed even need a person like you to hold onto a small amount of narcotics for him."

"A person like _me_?" His eyes narrow and he finally frowns.

"Surely Merchant Rashii, in all his power and wealth, would be able to hold his own drugs. When you told me you were holding that for someone else, I was under the impression that it was a personal favor for a friend, like Rong. I thought that might even have something to do with why the two of you are at odds."

"What the hell do you mean by 'a person like me'?"

He doesn't sound as insulted as he could be, and I suspect he's trying to throw me off topic, "I mean just an everyday citizen of a small town, who, by rule, generally doesn't fraternize with affluent, renowned people out of a deathless sense of disdain. As far as I've known, you've never wanted anything to do with Rashii ever since you started living in this town; in fact, I've always gotten the feeling that you hate the man."

"Yeah…well, I dunno'. That's how it happened, okay? I didn't volunteer for that."

"But you accepted it?"

"He was gonna' pay me."

"Then you _were_ dealing the heroin?"

Gojyo is beginning to look frustrated, and I can see that he's not used to having my familiarity and my perceptions around anymore than he's used to having me around to tend his wounds. "No. He asked me to hang onto it and said he'd pay me a little for the trouble and the risk. God, Hakkai. Would you quit worrying about this? We're getting nowhere with your stupid questions."

Despite what he says, I do feel as if we're getting somewhere, and therefore it would be foolish to back down now merely because he's exhibiting some irritation. But I don't want to argue either, so I proceed in a calm, soothing voice. "As I said, I'm not here to pass judgment or to make accusations, I just want to understand what it is you're doing. So then, to be clear, none of this has anything to do with Gin Loki."

Gojyo closes his eyes for a split second longer than a standard blink—another nearly imperceptible tell that says he knows he's lost, "Loki? Like, crazy-ass, runs a gang, lives in a rundown brothel, never-stopped-being-berserk Loki? Damn, Hakkai, what the fuck would I get involved with _Loki_ for?"

"I'd like for you to tell me, because I'm sure I could take random guesses all night."

"You know I hate that guy. Banri and me were always into it with him, ever since day one; he wouldn't cut us any goddamn slack-"

"I'm not interested what you and Banri used to do, Gojyo. I _know_ you hate Loki, and what's more, I know Loki hates _you_, but you still haven't answered my question."

He frowns at me, "Well, it's a stupid question. I can't believe you'd even ask me that."

"I don't think it's stupid. I think it's a legit concern, especially since becoming entangled with Loki and his gang could likely prove to be a weighty mistake."

"Exactly. So what're we talking about it for?" He drops into a chair and props his boots up on the table with his back turned to me.

I walk over and shove his feet off the table.

Gojyo glares at me, "_What_?"

"Tell me that heroin has nothing to do with Loki. Please. I would love to hear you say that."

"Hakkai, why are you even worried about something so dumb in the first place?"

"Excuse me, but this is _not_ a dumb thing to worry about. Please, consider the consequences of involving yourself with a gang lord like Gin Loki; Loki, as you said, is insane. He was chemically imbalanced before we went to India—he'd have to be, in order to control such a violent group of men—but since he's returned to this town…" I shake my head, "Loki is _insane_, Gojyo. He's unpredictable and ruthless. Even if he weren't those things, he'd still be incredibly dangerous. People are toys to him. Everything is a game. He has no morals. Do you honestly believe you could enter into a casual agreement with him and not wind up in some awkward position or another?"

"Hakkai-"

"Furthermore, even if that weren't a concern to be taken into account, haven't you considered how badly you could ruin your life? Criminal behavior like dealing drugs and stealing things and whatever else Loki might send you to do will not improve your means of living. All it's going to do is endanger you and pit you against the law, the upstanding citizens of society, and your own friends. Is that what you want at thirty years of age? To be a low grade criminal that does whatever a gang mobster asks of him at the snap of his fingers? Is that really the best you believe you can do?"

"Hakkai."

"I'm highly concerned that such behavior will follow you and could potentially wreck your entire life. What's more, you no longer have the reasonable excuses of being young and foolish and ignorant and of having no better means of surviving. _Now_ being a full-fledged adult, what excuse can you give me for gang activity and criminal behavior?"

"Hakkai!" He shouts, standing up. "Chill out, man! Who said anything about Loki?"

"Well?" I find that I'm shouting back, even when I said I wouldn't. "Then answer me and tell me the truth! If you can deny it then, by all means, please! Do so!"

For a long time, he studies me, as if weighing his options, attempting to determine whether or not he can get away with lying to me.

"No." He snaps at last. "I am not part of Loki's shithead gang, Hakkai! I can't believe you'd even think I could be!"

"It seems perfectly plausible to me, seeing how you're not playing cards or working for Sanzo. You must be supporting yourself somehow, even if you're not doing it very well."

"I'm not gambling or working for that self-righteous asshole, so I _must_ be in a gang. What kinda' bullshit fallacy is _that_? And by the way, I _am_ playing cards. That's how I make a living! That's how I've _always_ made a living! You know that. Besides, I don't need you to breeze in here, Little Mister Perfect, with a year of college and ringing out fuckers in a grocery store under your belt, and start telling me I'm not doing a good enough job of supporting myself! Who the fuck are you?"

"The whole time I've been here, all you've done is tell me you're out of money. You're out of food. You're completely broke. Goku talks as if it's been going on for some time, not as if you've had a short run of bad luck and couldn't buy groceries this week. Where _does_ what little money you make come from?"

"Who cares!" he coughs. "I could be whoring myself out for all you know! What difference does it make?"

"It makes a lot of difference, I'm afraid. Gambling has always been a far cry from an honest line of work, but it's much better than working for a man like Loki."

"And we're back to Loki again. Why're you so stuck on that, dude? I told you I'm not in his gang, now let it go!"

"I didn't ask you that in the first place; I asked if he had anything to do with the heroin. You _still_ haven't answered me."

Suddenly, he's right in my face, looking positively furious, "Tell me something. Why would you even _think_ Loki had anything to do with that heroin?"

"Because it makes a good deal more sense for you to be dealing drugs for Loki than it does for Merchant Rashii—who likely doesn't even realize you're alive—to step down out of his mansion and personally request you to hold onto his drugs for some unmentioned reason. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Hakkai." He snarls, "Back off, would'ja'? Seriously, man, just back off. Look, I'm sorry you came back here and everything's not exactly where you left it, and stuff's not exactly the way you remember it, and my life isn't _exactly _the way you'd want it to be, but that's just the point: you _left_. You said you didn't want anything to do with this shit anymore, and you wanted something different. Guess what? You got it. You got everything you fuckin' wanted, and what goes on around here these days has nothing to do with you. It's none of your business what I do!"

Hearing that makes me angry, and the outrage snaps inside of me. "That will _never_ be true." I bark at him. "_Ever_."

"Oh, do tell, Hakkai. Go right ahead and tell me what makes you think that I—and all the shit I do—am in any way your-"

"It is, because of who you are."

"I don't even know what the fuck that means, '_who I am_'."

"I must have explained this concept to you at least a dozen times-"

"So go ahead and explain it again!" He throws his arms out, challenging me. "Apparently I'm too fucking stupid to remember-"

"I didn't say you were stupid."

"But you're gonna' bitch about having to tell me the same shit over and over."  
"Because you don't _listen_ to me! If you'd just shut up and _listen_ for once-"  
I'm listening! I'm listening right now, but, as usual, you're not saying anything that makes any goddamn sense!"

"What I'm attempting to tell you is that-"

"Make sure you put it in simple terms, professor! You're dealing with a low grade criminal, and everything."

I'm so frustrated, I can't help pushing him back a little, out of my personal space, "It's my business what you do and what happens to you because of the nature of our relationship, blockhead! Because of ten years of being through everything together and living our lives like brothers! Do you honestly think I could go away, and should—God forbid—something happen to you, I could just _ignore_ it?!"

Coughing, he shakes his head, disgusted, "It's not your business. Just like it's not mine whether or not you go to school and get married and make new friends or whatever. We ain't fuckin' married!"

"Again! The triviality of your perspective makes me feel physically ill, Gojyo!"  
Now he's coughing a little harder, and he has to hesitate before shouting back at me, "Being friends doesn't mean we have any say in each other's lives! You have no right to tell me how I can and can't make money—that'd be as nuts as me trying to tell you what classes to take in school!"

"Don't you understand?" I grab him and shake him, "Do you honestly not understand? I am not trying to tell you what to do!"

"You always do." He chokes out between coughs.

I shake him harder, "No! I didn't come back here intending to inspect your life and write up some report on whether it's fitting or not! I-"

"What the fuck _did_ you come back here for? And don't tell me for vacation, 'cause I know that's bullshit!"

"It doesn't matter why I'm here; what matters is I didn't return to judge you. I know I have no right to tell you how to live your life—I know that—but being your best friend, I would expect my opinions and my concerns to mean a little more to you than this! I would at least expect you to be respectful and trusting enough to be honest with me, or in any case, to appreciate how worried I am about you!"

He's coughing again, even rougher than before, and this time, no matter how long I wait, he doesn't stop. He shoves me off suddenly and turns away to lean against the wall, coughing raggedly into the crook of his arm.

"Gojyo?" I take a step after him.  
He waves me off and keeps coughing. It sounds like he can hardly breathe.

"Gojyo…"

"Sh-shut…up…" He begins to make his way down the hallway, but the coughing is too persistent, and he doesn't go very far before he has to stop and lean against the wall again, sputtering curses as the cough continues.

I watch, frozen in place. He leans heavily against the wall, barely able to keep on his feet, the fit is so violent, and I listen in horror to the loud, heaving, ragged chokes that are ripping out of his lungs. "F-fuck. Fuck." He gasps between coughs. I see him grasp the wound in his side with a shaking hand, while his body convulses sporadically.

At last, I find myself in control again, aware of what's going on and of what needs to be done. "God, Gojyo!" I cry, crossing the room to him. "Sit down!" And in one movement, I heave him over onto the couch, where he falls over on the armrest, still wheezing and hacking and cursing.

"Deep breaths." I order firmly. "Just breathe."

"C-can't." He gives a particularly loud, ferocious cough.

I'm horrified to see a bright rivulet of blood ooze between his fingers and stream, slowly, waveringly, down over his wrist.

Breath hitching and catching, he stops suddenly, staring wide-eyed at the palmful of blood in hand. "Wh-what…?"

I crouch down next to him, hand on his. "Lie back and focus on catching your breath."

For several more minutes, he lies against the armrest, jerking and twitching, writhing a bit, as he struggles to get the cough under control, and slowly, it dies away.

Gojyo sucks in one last loud, difficult breath.

"God damn."

He wipes the blood on the leg of his jeans and tries to sit up.

I push him down again, but gently, and press my ear to his chest.

"Wh-what're you-?"

"Take a few deep breaths."

Gojyo goes on breathing normally, if not a bit unsteadily still.

I pinch him, hard, "Deep breaths."

He inhales deeply a couple of times, and I listen intently, close my eyes so I can focus better, but it's no use, and in a moment, I sit up again, "I can't determine anything without a stethoscope."

"A-a what?"

"Stethoscope." I don't waste time explaining to him what a stethoscope is, but I take my glasses off and wipe them with my shirt, "I'm not sure what's going on with you precisely…but I think you should talk to a doctor."

"Fuck that." He sighs.

"There could be something seriously wrong with you." I tell him sharply, settling my glasses back onto my nose.

"Like what?" Gojyo looks at me, innocently almost, but that naïve look can't mask his fears and his knowledge. Not this time.

Again, I don't have time to play his games, nor to humor his immature, flippant manner of trying to hide from the things he knows could kill him. "The usual ailments that come from a lifetime of excessive smoking habits: cancer. Emphyzema. So forth."

Gojyo's mouth quirks, very vaguely, but he still refuses to show me that he's frightened by those words. "Doubt it."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm not very old."

"You don't have to be old to get cancer."

"I don't have cancer."

"The only way to find out would be to see a doctor."

"I don't need a doctor."

I close my eyes and grind my teeth a little, struggling to keep my composure, "Yes. You do."

"I'm fine."

Abruptly, and harshly, I seize his wrist, twist it and present his now blood-stained palm to him, "Are you?"

"That could be from-"

"Anything. Of course." I roll my eyes. "Just what is the matter with you? You've been smoking since you were nine years old and now, suddenly, it's impossible for you to have complications with your respiratory system? Please. Are we living in the real world or not? Chain smokers die of lung cancer, Gojyo." Then I shove his hand away.

He sits up on his elbows and gives me a long, testing look. "Do you think I have lung cancer?"

"I don't know. Something is wrong though, I can see that much."

"I'm just getting sick or something. Some fucking chest cold that-"

I laugh in his face, rudely, and I know it's rude, and I couldn't care less, "You've had this cough since before I moved away. How idiotic would we both have to be to tell ourselves that you've had the same, silly, not-to-be-taken-seriously chest cold for the last three years? As I said, you need a doctor to find out what's wrong with you, and if you won't willingly go to see one, I swear I'll knock you out and-"

"Alright, alright. I'll talk to Ton about it."

"No. Not Ton."

"What? Why not Ton? It's always Ton."

"Not this time."

"Why the hell not? He's-"

"I don't trust Ton with this."

"You've always trusted Ton."

"Yes. Ton is a good friend, and he's helped us many times, and I do trust him, with most things, despite his uncontrollable alcoholism, but this is different. This calls for someone who specializes in respiratory…malfunctions."

"Malfunctions." He snorts. "Yeah, well where'm I gonna' find somebody like that? _You_ know anybody like that?"

"Perhaps." I think on it a while. "Though, not in this town."

"Of course." He lights a cigarette. "So where?"

I snatch it out of his mouth before he can even finish the initial drag, smiling brightly, "Did you really just do that? You're a true wonder. Here we are—you've just coughed up a mouthful of blood, and we're discussing the possibility of you having _lung cancer_ of all things, and _you_ have the audacity to light a _cigarette_. Remarkable."

He scowls at me, "I ain't stopping just because I _might_ have cancer."

I scowl back. "Then you're a fool."

"It doesn't matter anyway. We don't know anybody, so there's nothing we can do."

"That's not necessarily true. In Li Ying, there's a decent hospital, and I'm reasonably certain that there would be someone there who could be of service in this matter."

"Great." Now he rolls his eyes. "I ain't going over to your stupid, middle-of-nowhere, college town to check into a goddamn hospital and let some sick homo undress me and grab my balls and stick his finger up my ass, just so we can find out I'm not dying."

He's really starting to make me angry.

"Then what do you propose to do?"

"Nothin'."

"Nothing? You can't be serious. This is a very serious situation, and I can't believe you'd joke about such a thing."

"I'm not joking, Hakkai. I don't think we need to do anything."

_"Baka!" _I practically shout. "Of all the idiotic things to say! At the very _least_ you need to cut back on how much you smoke—I'd like to see you _quit_ entirely."

"No." He sighs one more time and tilts his head back against the arm rest to stare up at the ceiling. "It's…just not that big a deal."

At this point, I'd like to strangle him, rendering his potential ailments of the lung utterly unimportant. "What is wrong with you?" I snap.

He doesn't react.

"Do you _want_ to die, Gojyo?"

His eyes flicker, and he lifts his head to look at me once more, "Nobody _wants_ to die, Hakkai."

"I'm beginning to think _you_ do."

"Whatever. I've got a crummy, little cough. Since when is that a big deal? Smokers cough."

"Sanzo told me what you did." I blurt out, unable to contain myself any longer.

"What're you talking about?" His eyes narrow.

I touch his wounded side, meaningfully. "You know what I'm referring to."

"Oh. I see. _That's_ why you came back. Sanzo told you about that, and his warped theory on the reason behind it, so you rushed back here to rescue my ass, like some knight in shining armor."

"No." I say, very softly. "Sanzo didn't tell me until I was already here."

"It doesn't matter, 'cause he's wrong anyway."

I sit silently a while, studying him, observing his face and his expression, very carefully, and he returns his poker face, with a vengeance. I leave my hand on his side, and even now, I can feel the wound and the stitches, just beneath my skin, and his body quivers with every breath. "You mean to tell me, you didn't go on that particular mission, alone, without the aid of Goku, because you had hoped not to return?"

"Why in the hell would I do that? If I wanted to kill myself, there've gotta' be a least two million better ways to do it."

I think about it all. The mission and the wound in his side, the things I've seen him do and say, the fight with Rong, the cough, the blood he spat up, the drugs I found in his room, what Bao-zhi told me, and I realize I'm really and truly afraid for him. I'm so afraid, I can barely handle the emotions swelling inside my stomach, and I feel that I'm on the verge of vomiting.

"Gojyo." I murmur. "I'm not sure if you're denying the circumstances, or if you're not noticing them, or if you just honestly don't want to _look_ at them from my point of view…however…what I see from you these days is very disquieting. By all accounts…your behavior is highly self-destructive, and I have no idea if that's on purpose or not, but either way, whether it's a behavior you've picked up unconsciously, or if you are actively trying to find some extravagant way to leave this life, I am extremely worried, and all I want is for you to be honest with me, the way you used to be, and tell me what it is that has you so extremely disturbed."

"I'm not _disturbed_."

"Then why are you acting this way?"

"Acting what way?"

"As if you don't care about your life." I tell him fiercely.

"Pft. Oh, come on. It's not that serious. I've acted this way the whole time you've known me."

"I've _never_ seen you act this way. I've never seen you treat your own life with such little regard, and I certainly can't fathom a reason for it. Obviously, I don't want to think that you're purposely trying to hurt yourself—I wouldn't even bring it up if I thought it wasn't plausible—but I wish you would tell me something—anything really—that would put these fears to rest once and for all."

I watch him earnestly, knowing full-well that my expression has turned desperate, as I wait for him to do just that, but Gojyo merely shakes his head at me and says, "You're making a really big deal out of something that's just not that serious." And then he lights a cigarette.

I have no choice but to accept that that's how he is, because that's how he's always been, so I let the whole argument go—for now—it wasn't getting us anywhere anyway, but I vow to myself that I will go back to it eventually, and I will uncover what lies at the bottom of it.

In the meantime, I tell Gojyo that, regardless of how confident he is that none of these situations need to be taken seriously, I am still deeply concerned, and then I persuade him to sit on the couch and take it easy while I make dinner.

We eat in complete silence, though I do glance over at him from time to time and try to think of something to say, and I notice him looking at me with a similar, longing expression. It's clear to me that neither of us like the rift I can feel expanding between us, but I'm running out of ideas for how I can fix it, and it seems like every move I make only tears us further apart.

After dinner, the rain has picked up, but I prepare to leave anyway, and I ask Gojyo to please stay home and not run off anywhere.

"Where're you going?"

"There's someone I need to go and have a word with. I'll be back within the hour."

I certainly will be too, because I'm reluctant to go without him very long. It's not that I'm afraid something will happen to him, it's just that he already seems so distant, and we can't afford to get any further apart these days. I'm determined to salvage our friendship, no matter what it takes, even if it means missing more school and work. I can't justify moving back here, but I need to begin thinking of a way to take him with me, whether that be manipulating him or forcing him outright.

The rain is heavy, and I walk into town quickly, because I said I'd be back within the hour, and because for the first time in a long time, the weather bothers me, making me feel moody almost to the degree that it used to before we went on our journey, possibly because I've always had Gojyo in my life to help me dispel the gloom, and now I feel separated from him on a deep, emotional level.

I reach Ton's house in record time and let myself in without bothering to knock.

When I enter, he's sitting in his kitchen, which is just as filthy and cluttered as Gojyo's was a few days ago, eating soup from a large coffee mug and drinking whiskey out of a dirty-looking tumbler glass. He glances up at me when I come in, but he doesn't seem surprised.

"Pardon my intrusion." I say with a smile.

"Mm. I heard you were back in town; I was beginning to think you weren't ever going to call…which would have been just fine. You know I don't like to be bothered."

I laugh a bit. "It seemed rude to not drop by to at least say hello."

"Well, I can't go chasing you out exactly, can I? Want something to eat?"

"Oh, um." I glance around at the piles of dirty dishes and the flies buzzing around the sink and the grimy, unswept floor, "No thank-you. I've just eaten."

He gestures to the chair next to him, "Have a seat."

It's covered in a stack of thick, dusty books, which he's seemed not to have touched in years, so I continue to stand.

After a moment, he reaches over to shove them off onto the floor, where they tumble in a disordered heap, some of them landing, open and resting on their two covers like tents, pages bending, bindings breaking.

"You ought to treat your books with more care, Doctor." I say, sitting down, tentatively.

"Why? I never read them. Well, what brings you here anyway? It's a long walk from your house, and the weather is miserable today." He glares out through his smudged window at the pouring rain. "Hurt?"

"Oh, no."

"Sick?"

"No, I'm the perfect picture of health, thank-you for asking."

"Gojyo then?"

"I'm offended that you'd think I would only come here to ask for your assistance over some matter of health."

"That's all you ever come here for." He picks up his mug and drains the last of his soup, then polishes off his whiskey, standing up, unsteadily, as he pours a little more.

"It's quite early for whiskey, isn't it, Ton?"

"Oh, did you come here to talk to me about _my_ health? That's a nice change of pace."

I laugh again. "Someone has to look after the town physician."

"If you're looking for _that_ old windbag, you better head up town. I'm the poor man's practitioner. You know that." He smirks at me, looking somewhat old and tired. I had heard that his activities during the calamity wore him out and stretched him thin, and that seems more evident than ever when he gives me that wan, cynical smile. "Enough jokes. Come into the other room."

I'm relieved to get out of the kitchen, so I follow him around the corner into his sitting room, which is just as messy: dusty, cluttered, dark and musty-smelling. There's a small piano there that hasn't been touched in ages. Ton sinks into a tall, winged arm chair, right beside a picture window, and I sit, reluctantly, on the tattered couch adjacent to him. The upholstery on both pieces of furniture is tattered, dirty and stained. "Perhaps you'd have a better chance at being the town practitioner if you'd keep a tidier home."

Ton takes a deep gulp of his whiskey and then dries his beard on his sleeve, "Feel free to come clean it for me some time."

"That's a charming offer. We'll have to see about that."

We're silent a while, and I watch the rain run down the window in heavy rivulets.

"Did you come here just to joke with me, Hakkai, or do you have a reason?"

I clear my throat and lean forward so I don't have to lean back on the dirty couch, "It's about Gojyo."

"Of course it is." He snorts, takes an even bigger gulp of liquor.

"I don't know if you've stayed in contact with him."

"Tried to. He avoids me like I have the plague. In fact, I ran into him on the street earlier this week, and he did everything he could to evade me except run away."

"Why would he be avoiding you?"

Ton gives me a long, intense look. "Probably the same reason you came to see me today."

"What did he say to you when you caught up to him on the street?"

"Not very much. He said he's busy and that he was on his way to a business meeting, then some nonsense about being a gun for hire." Ton shakes his head tiredly, "I told him more than once to stay away from Loki, but everyone in town knows that's who hires his gun these days."

"Gojyo told me he isn't part of Loki's gang."

"He isn't. And he is. Obviously he's not living in the brothel doing whatever that motherfucker tells him to, but he's gonna' have a damn hard time getting out of that agreement of theirs if he ever decides he wants to."

I sigh and lean back, in spite of the dirty couch, and all the fears Bao-zhi evoked in me are now affirmed. "How did this so-called agreement come about in the first place? Why would he purposely join up with Loki?"

"All I know is what I can infer; he hasn't been himself lately, and he needed some cash quick, so he took whatever work he could get."

"I still don't understand why he'd go to Loki."

"I can't say why exactly either, though I don't think he did, but again, just an inference, they must have made some sort of agreement, and it must have worked out okay for both of them, and they started some kind of business contract."

"I find that…highly distressing."

"So do I. But I don't think Loki would have bothered with Gojyo if you were still in town."

I look up sharply. "Are you implying that this is my fault?"

His eyes turn a bit hard, "This is Gojyo's fault, son. Nobody forced him to do what he's doing—even Loki couldn't have _forced_ him to work for him—he chose to do this. Maybe he did it because he missed you, I don't know. All I know is he made a bad decision, and now the only question is how he's going to pay for it."

"Bao-zhi thinks Loki will try to kill him."

Ton nods gravely. "He will. Eventually. He'll probably set him up, walk him into a trap, and Gojyo probably won't even see it coming."

"No." I shake my head. "Not if I can help it—in two days, I'm going back to school, and Gojyo's coming with me."

"Did he tell you he was?"

"He doesn't have a choice."

Ton snorts, "I don't know, Hakkai. I don't think you can make him go with you… I don't think you should, not even if Loki does have it out for him."

"It's not about Loki, necessarily." I think a moment, deciding whether that's true or not, but it hardly matters. "In fact, that's why I'm here to see you today."

Ton cocks his head at me, "There's something else?"

"Gojyo's not well, I'm afraid. He has this…" Suddenly, I feel more perplexed and more anxious than ever, and I stand up to pace across the room, rubbing the bridge of my nose and drawing a deep breath, "He has this cough, you see. He's had it a while—since before I moved away—you likely can remember when it started, because we were still seeing you on a regular basis back then."

"I asked him about it once."

"Yes, I remember that. I never took it very seriously, I'm afraid. He's been smoking for his entire adult life, and for most of his childhood too, so it seemed like something that was to be expected, and there wasn't any sense in worrying over it. It's gotten worse though. It's turned malicious, if that makes any sense, and violent. Today, he was coughing up blood." I turn back to Ton to get a glimpse of his expression.

He doesn't look shocked or concerned, the way I feel, though he's clearly listening with great intent.

"It scares me, Ton." I say, quietly, just in case, somehow, he's not understanding my concerns. "Gojyo doesn't want to take it seriously—he wants to pretend it's not happening—but I think he's afraid of what it could mean too. I…I don't even want to _think_ of the possibility that he's afflicted with some sort of terminal illness… I can't ignore that possibility though. That's why I think he needs to go back with me."

"What, you think you can look after him?" Ton's voice is equally hushed, almost gentle, and that's not something I hear much from him.

"Maybe. More importantly though, I believe he can get help there. There's a proper hospital, and there must be someone who specializes in this type of thing."

"I still don't think you can force him to go, especially if he doesn't want to."

"Then I'll convince him it's for his own good. I'll do whatever it takes." My voice turns sharp, because Ton wasn't supposed to react this way. He was supposed to be on my side.

He sighs suddenly and gets up, leaving his glass there on the table, "Hakkai, listen." He comes over and lays a hand that's almost fatherly in nature, on my shoulder, "I understand you're worried about Gojyo, but you can't jump to conclusions."

Disbelieving, I gape at him, "What do you mean by that? I don't see how wanting him to speak to a doctor when he's been coughing up _blood_ could possibly be jumping to a conclusion!"

"No, no, of course not. That isn't what I meant. I know you're worried about him, and I'm not saying you don't have cause to be. He has been smoking a disgusting amount for a disgustingly long time, and I guarantee you that it's affecting his health. However, coughing up blood doesn't necessarily constitute lung cancer or emphysema or tuberculosis or anything like that. It could mean a number of things. It could be something as simple as a burst blood vessel from coughing so often and so violently. It could mean a rupture in the stomach or from a wound in the abdominal area."

I think a moment. "He did get stabbed in the side recently."

He nods as if he knew that all along, "It could have to do with that. All I'm trying to say is, you shouldn't just assume Gojyo's about to die of lung cancer."

"It's not impossible though. I don't want to overlook it, especially since that seems to be what he's determined to do already."

"No, of course not. I'll tell you something though—and you know this is true—getting Gojyo to go with you of his own free will isn't going to be easy, and forcing him to go could cause him to be resentful and angry. You don't want to estrange him, not when he's already been acting out."

"What on earth do you expect me to do?" I demand. "Go away in two days and just _hope_ the situation improves on its own? Gojyo isn't going to simply quit smoking and end his association with Loki because I wish for him to!"

Ton nods gravely, "Yes, I know. He's an adult though, and he makes his own decisions."

I glare at him. I can't help it. Even though I know he's right and that I can't live Gojyo's life for him…I'm angry and I'm scared, and part of me would like to punch Ton for telling me these things.

He pats my shoulder, as if to placate me, "Tell you what, kiddo'. Let's start small, okay? Convince him to come see me first; I know I'm not a specialist, but I can at least rule out any of the less threatening possibilities, because coughing up blood is a serious thing, no matter what the reason is, and it could be that if he hears me tell him he needs to go and talk to someone else, he'll be more inclined to take this situation seriously."

That does make me feel a little better, so I nod. Then I murmur, "He really needs to stop smoking."

"I don't know if he'll ever do that, Hakkai." Ton says gravely.

"I can't give up on him though. It wouldn't be right."

"No, of course not. Bring him here tomorrow—do me a favor and honestly try to reason with him; I mean, don't tell him you're coming into town for hookers and ice cream, because I don't want him cramming his fist in my face just because you tricked him. I'll look him over and tell you what I think, and then you can both figure out where to go from there."

Nodding again, I try to smile.

Ton smiles back, "Don't worry, Hakkai. I think as long as Gojyo can see how worried you are, he'll be willing to listen to reason."

I hope that's true, but as I'm walking home, through the rain, I'm afraid. He's been so distant from me, not paying heed to any of my concerns, so why should this be different? It seems hopeless to me that I could possibly go there and talk to him and have him accept what I have to say, let alone do what I ask him to do. He's so ridiculously stubborn, after all.

Regardless, I know I have to try.

When I get home, I'm prepared to have another lengthy discussion with him, and this time, I'm determined not to let it get out of hand. We're going to sit down and talk about this, I'm going to reiterate how extremely worried I am about his health—Loki's hardly a speck to me right now—and I'm going to do everything I can to convince him to go speak to Ton about his condition tomorrow. I'm sure that I can do it, even if it takes me hours and hours.

I let myself in, calling out, "I'm home."

Gojyo's lying on the floor next to the couch, somewhat crumpled up there, with his arms folded and his face pressed against them. There's an empty bottle of liquor tipped over beside him, and Jeep is perched on the couch just above him, craning over to look down at him, chirping nervously.

I practically run to his side, grabbing his shoulder, "Gojyo?"

"Nn, yeah." He mumbles, "Welcome back."

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Pfft. Dumb question. Where'd ya' go an'way?"

Kneeling there, I leave my hand lying on his shoulder, and I try to think of how I can talk him into going to see Ton tomorrow, but if he's drunk, I think that might be highly impossible. "To have a word with Ton."

"Ton? Wha for?"

"About your condition. He wants you to come see him tomorrow so he can investigate that cough."

"Can't. I'm gonna' be busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Stuff." He sniffs.

"I really think you should try to make time to go have a word with Ton."

Gojyo just chuckles, "Jeez 'Kai, wha's the deal? It's just a little-"

"I'm worried." I tell him earnestly. "That's the deal."

At last he turns his head to look up at me with a bleary, one-eyed gaze, through a curtain of tangled, red hair.

"I'm very worried." I repeat.

Gojyo sighs and turns away again, "'Kay. Alright. I'll go an' talk ta' Ton tomorrow."

"You will?"

"Mmhm. I don't want'cha' to worry."

With a relieved breath, I thread my fingers up into his hair, "Thank-you, Gojyo." Then I sit with him there a while before asking, "What did you do to get so drunk so quickly? I was only gone an hour."

"Just drank a lot."

"May I ask why? It's not even four yet."

"'Cause."

"Because of what?"

"Just 'cause."

"Gojyo." I say, a little more sternly, "You must have a better reason than that for acting this way. I mean, your behavior for these last few days has been highly inappropriate, so can't you at least give me some sort of excuse for my coming home and finding you all but passed out drunk on the living room floor at three thirty in the afternoon?"

He's quiet a long time.

In a while I shake his shoulder. "Gojyo."

"Fuck off, Hakkai." He growls, suddenly. "Just fuck off."

For a second or two, I can scarcely believe it, and then I'm too hurt and bewildered to say anything more, so I let go of him, stand up, and go into the other room, and that's where I stay for the remainder of the night.


End file.
